


Arkytior

by Aelwyn



Series: Vignettes of Rose and the Doctor [11]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Baby fic (very minimal), F/M, Pregnancy, Trigger warning for miscarriage in a later chapter; chapter is clearly labeled, take liberties with Gallifreyan history and culture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:54:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 28,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22897570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aelwyn/pseuds/Aelwyn
Summary: Ever since they were children, Theta Sigma and Arkytior have been inseparable. Now, as the Doctor and Kit (going by Rose to everyone else) embark on a journey through time and space, they come to realize that marriage is just as much of an adventure as the beckoning universe. An introspective look at how things might have gone if Rose were a Time Lady and had been with him from the beginning.
Relationships: The Doctor (Doctor Who)/Rose Tyler
Series: Vignettes of Rose and the Doctor [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1436614
Comments: 31
Kudos: 122





	1. Gallifrey I

**Author's Note:**

> I want to let it be known right off the bat that this story concept has been sitting in my WIP forlder for ages and I had started writing it in season 9 and I completely forgot about it for ages, which is why it is only just getting posted about 4.5 years later. I didn’t like the idea of a new regen cycle at the time and so ignored it, working the regenerations so that Twelve was the last one but excluding War. I have not changed this, because quite frankly I have other stories I want to work on and this was a small thing on the side anyways. However, I wanted to finish off the last two or three chapters and post it. 
> 
> Basically, read this with the mindset that it was written in 2015.
> 
> For the Academia scales I used the UK current higher education grading system, which for readers who don’t know how that works (as an American who had to look it up I am mainly speaking to that demographic, though it applies to all non-British) was briefly researched in an article on this website:
> 
> https://www.studying-in-uk.org/uk-grading-system/

He was loud, energetic, and far too curious for his own good. Mischievous hazel eyes more of a blue-tan than a green-brown but still considered hazel were constantly trained with a fixated interest on whatever had caught their fancy for the current, limited allotment of time they gave before flitting to the next object only seconds later out from underneath shaggy brown hair so dark a shade that in dim light it turned black. Sharp, angular features were constantly crinkling his eyes and the side of his mouth in a smirk his instructors and peers knew well enough to find foreboding, his lean runner’s frame smaller than the other boys his same age. He was constantly getting into trouble, unable to keep still or quiet in a school lesson, and he was the only one that noticed her.

She was quiet, daydreamy, and at first glance shy to the point of reclusive. Attentive olive eyes mixed with a soft, tannish brown sat underneath a delicate brow that was almost constantly furrowed in intense concentration as she sketched drawing after drawing at the back of the class while the tip of her tongue poked out the side of her mouth through her teeth. When asked the answer to a question she would dutifully reply, barely glancing up from her little hobby, and yet somehow still get the correct answer. Her features were soft, curved and petite. Faint freckles dotted the pixie face and, despite a lady having one’s hair down a cultural taboo, it usually escaped in long, soft pastel golden wisps from the bun it had been hastily shoved into prior that morning. She was of an average build and stature for the females of the Gallifreyan species, and as a result they came out even in height.

Everyone knew who he was by default, and they didn’t care to try and make her acquaintance. 

Well, all except Ushas. The girl was cruel, even at the initiate age into the Academy of barely eight, and for some reason she’d elected to take it upon herself to make the mystery girl in the corner as miserable as possible. 

On this particular afternoon, this goal was achieved by swiping the journal full of drawings and sending it skidding across the floor amongst a mess of papers and textbooks that had also gone flying as Ushas left the classroom, leaving the pair of them alone. Their eyes met briefly before she hurriedly returned to gathering up her things, her motions stilling as he slowly held her journal out to her.

“Sorry,” the girl murmured awkwardly, brushing a strand of hair behind an ear. 

“Not your fault,” the boy assured her quietly. He stood, offering her his hand to help her up, and she took it hesitantly as if almost afraid he’d let her fall the moment she became properly unbalanced. “My name’s Theta Sigma of the House of Lungbarrow. What about you?”

“Arkytior,” she whispered shyly, noticing that their hands were still linked as they walked toward their next class. “I’m from Heartshaven.”

“Bit of a mouthful,” he muttered, nose wrinkling in distaste before his expression brightened. “Can I call you ‘Kit’ instead?”

“Only if I can call you Theta,” she teased, finally relaxing and cracking a smile. He watched, fascinated, as the tip of her tongue poked out in the grin and her eyes seemed to sparkle, the change in her demeanor almost painfully evident as she realized he just wanted to enjoy her company rather than do so with the intent to hurt her feelings. He pretended to consider for a few moments before grinning, moving to swing their hands between them as they walked.

“Mm... deal,” he decided before glancing down at his arms full of books and giving her a raised eyebrow. “I seem to be carrying your things.” Kit smirked in response.

“So you do,” she replied without making any move whatsoever to amend the situation. Theta huffed in amusement but let it be. 

They arrived at their next lesson a tad bit late, sliding into the back rows as Borusa began his monotone drone. Theta watched with rapt attention as Kit doodled in her journal, marveling at her abilities as she drew soft shaded flowers and landscapes of fastidious detail despite being only eight. 

They exchanged the basics after that lesson period. Kit was currently the youngest cousin in the House of Heartshaven and her parents were immensely strict; she was their only child and from the way she spoke Theta could only assume that would not be changing any time soon. Theta had an older brother named Irving Braxiatel that was really the only one of Lungbarrow that seemed to even remotely tolerate his presence; no one actively liked him, not even his own parents, and while he wasn’t the youngest cousin he was certainly on the ‘pipsqueak side,’ as Brax liked to put it. 

Theta had one friend from before their entry into the Academy named Koschei, from the House of Oakdown, and unlike Theta and Kit was well-liked by his cousins. His father owned the massive estates as the patriarch of the House, a title Koschei himself would inherit one day. At any rate the boy joined them in the gardens of the Academy. Brilliant cobalt blue eyes raked over Arkytior indifferently upon first meeting, scowling slightly at what appeared to be a subconscious calling on his best friend’s and now this unwelcome girl’s parts to hold hands almost constantly. 

Neither boy had ever been interested in plants in the slightest, but Theta hung on Kit’s every word when she could name every single one and explain what they were useful for. He asked her a handful of questions at a rapid pace and was delighted to find that she didn’t mind at his being so talkative, a trait that everyone else seemed to find irritating. She answered every single question put to her, though the conversation dwindled considerably when Koschei asked in an almost disturbingly innocent tone which ones were poisonous. 

The other student soon left the pair, most likely to pester Vansell as he was wont to do as his favorite pastime, and glancing about furtively Kit tugged on Theta’s hand. He let her lead him without resistance to one of the walls of the garden that formed the exterior boundary of the Academy, eyes widening when she pulled back some tall grass and revealed a small hole in the wall for them to slip through. He followed her out into the wide, scarlet grassy plains surrounding the Academy and gasped at the sheer amount of open space. Everything felt stifling in the Academy and Theta was only too glad to be away from it. He hummed as the fresh wind whipped at his robes and hair turning into the breeze, and noted that Arkytior was doing the same. 

“You’re like me,” he said suddenly, quietly. Kit glanced at him, startled, before a slow smile spread across her face and she nodded. 

~§§~

“Hurry up, Theta!” Koschei urged. Theta shot him a glare as he heaved himself up handhold by handhold the side of the steep hill. They were fifteen years old and in human terms barely past the biological age of eight and a half, but much had changed during that time. Koschei had eventually warmed up to Kit when it became apparent that it was impossible to actually dislike her once she’d put the charm on, and the three of them were an inseparable unholy terror upon their professors. Kit, once she’d gotten two true friends, had become much more self-confident and outgoing, even going so far as to stand up to Ushas the next time the spiteful girl went after her. She’d taught Theta how to draw and Koschei had shown the pair of them how to set off stinkbombs. Theta was good at pulling things apart and fixing them before putting them back together again, and the three of them often skipped class to chase each other through the hills surrounding the Academy.

Theta reached the top of the hill and braced his hands on his knees, panting. Koschei was in a similar situation and they snickered at one another before something occurred to them.

“Where’s Kit?” Theta asked. They both glanced up at the slight rustling in the silver tree canopy above them, eyes widening comically before they were both spitting out grass and dirt as the girl launched herself at them. “Oof!” 

“I hate it when she does that,” Koschei muttered, the words barely legible as he dragged his face out of the soil. 

“I think she’s trying to establish dominance,” Theta ventured with a tentative groan. Kit huffed good-naturedly and shifted off of Koschei to sit squarely in the center of Theta’s back. “Ow. Gerroff.” 

“Fine,” she chirped, springing nimbly onto her toes. “You’re a bony sort of floor cushion anyway.” Theta growled at that and tackled her legs. They went rolling across the red grass and both yelped in surprise as they continued on down the hill they’d just climbed, Koschei laughing at them as he sat down. 

~§§~

“Tell me a story?” Arkytior asked softly. They had been celebrating her thirtieth birthday (biologically only ten in human appearance) and this seemed like the perfect end to a perfect day. Theta shifted slightly on the grass and frowned. 

“Like what?” She shrugged, pointing at the sky. 

“Pick a constellation and tell me how it came to be?” 

“Hmm. Uh... the stars in the constellation Rekhan are...” Kit chuffed and swatted at his arm from where she lay beside him under the canopy of stars. 

“Rekhan is the bearer of poor tidings,” she began, wrapping her fingers around his and pointing with her free hand. “You see? He resembles a vulture. It is said that one day the goddess of Pain needed a messenger. Rekhan had his wing caught in a snare, and in return for freeing him Pain asked him to become her messenger. So he flies the skies each night, never resting, until his debt is repaid.” 

“How do you know all this?” Theta asked. She shrugged. 

“I read. If something interests me, I read about it. Why?”

“...I learn better through doing,” he confessed. “It’s easier, to see all the pieces and fit them together when they’re in the physical.” 

“That’s okay,” Kit chirped. “I’m rubbish at the hands-on stuff. So, the way I see it, I help you with the book learning and you help me with the manual learning. Deal?”

“...You’re very optimistic.”

“‘Course I am. You’re here.” There was a long moment of silence before Theta shrugged. 

“Ditto.” 

~§§~

They were now in their early nineties, or the human biological equivalent of being just on the cusp of adolescence. No one could prove they’d gotten into Chancellor Tabish’s prized jam collection, and even if they could it wasn’t as if either of them were particularly repentant of it, but Koschei just wouldn’t _let it go_. 

“Did it taste good?” The boy asked sullenly. 

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Theta replied evasively. Koschei rolled his eyes. 

“You’ve still got some of it in the corner of your mouth, genius. Come on. Let me at least live vicariously through others.”

“It was delicious,” Kit conceded, smirking as Theta swiped at his mouth with the back of his hand and completely missed the streak of jam. “Theta, no, other- no, just- just let me,” she laughed, bringing the pad of her thumb up to clean his face as he sulked. There was a slightly awkward moment when she unthinkingly licked the preserves off of her thumb and then realized what she’d done. 

“Wish I could have been there.” Koschei broke the suddenly tense atmosphere with a cough and shuffled his feet. He looked up. “Why didn’t you invite me?” The pair looked at each other and blinked. 

“...Koschei, you were already in trouble for setting fire to the lavatory on the fifth level,” Theta reminded him gently. “Another mark so soon after had we been caught and you would have been expelled.”

“...Oh, right.” 

“Yep.”

“Well, that’s different then.”

~§§~

It was one of the few times during the year when they were allowed to go back to their House for observance of what most people considered to be an antiquated set of holidays. Otherstide and the subsequent occasions that followed were supposed to be a time of renewal - due to the myths and legends surrounding the Other himself, of course - and so Theta was currently suffering at home. Ironically, he missed the Academy. That was something he never thought he’d ever find himself thinking. 

More specifically, he missed Kit. And Koschei. But Koschei was... well, ever since he’d begun adolescence he’d been acting sort of... strange. Muttering odd things at inopportune moments and complaining about a drumming noise in his mind. He’d heard that noise, so he said, ever since he’d looked into the Untempered Schism, but it was so much worse recently. So, less Koschei who had become increasingly more and more distant and more missing Kit. 

Rain was coming down in large droves during a rare break from Gallifrey’s almost-perpetual dry spell. Theta was curled up in a corner of the entryway inside a rather large and ostentatious wooden armoire; it was the only place he could find respite from the teasing of his cousins and the judgement of his aunts and uncles simply for the reason that no one knew he had a tendency to hide there. The book he was reading held little interest but it was something to do that didn’t involve burning the entire house down (although it would serve the gloomy, almost entirely windowless labyrinth right in his opinion if one of his experiments happened to accidentally go haywire). 

A knock on the main door had him looking up at the small crack he‘d left in the cupboard so that the hinge didn’t lock him in (plus he needed the light) with a frown. He watched as one of his aunts opened the door and let out a soft noise of disgust.

“Who are you? Leave now!” The second voice was eerily familiar yet muffled.

“But I-”

“Begone, I said!” The woman slammed the door and locked it securely, wandering back toward whatever dungeon she’d crawled out of and muttering to herself. “Filthy Gallifreyan peasant children...” 

When she was far enough away that he was sure he wouldn’t be spotted, Theta climbed out of the armoire and crept curiously to the door. He paused when he was just able to make out the sound of crying over the rain and quickly yanked the heavy wooden entry open as fast as he was able. 

“Theta.”

“...Kit!?” She nodded from where she had sat on the steps, dripping wet and shivering. His gaze darkened when he spotted the dark mark partially hidden by her hairline. “What happened?” 

“One of my older cousins hit me. None of the adults thought it was a big deal, but then she did it again, and then again, again...” Carefully, Kit pulled up the sleeves on her robes and looked away when Theta gasped in shock at the numerous fading and fresh bruises. “I didn’t, didn’t have anywhere to go except here...” 

“With me,” Theta murmured, slinging an arm around her waist and then grunting as he scooped her partially onto his back. Kit got the general idea fairly quickly, wrapping her arms loosely around his neck and allowing her legs to come up so that the inside of her knees rested against the inside of his elbows. He padded quickly to his room and, after setting her down on the bed, disappeared for a good few minutes. He returned bearing a tray of what were obviously after-dinner scraps, an empty cup and a full pitcher of water, and a pair of dry robes for Kit to wear. The robes were about two sizes too big (an older cousin, most likely), but she appreciated it nonetheless. 

After getting dried off and having put some food in her stomach, Kit was doing better. While she’d been getting dressed Theta had moved out to parts unknown to fetch a small med kit, and she’s smiled at the shy knock he’d given at the door to make sure she was decent. 

“Come in,” she whispered. The handle turned slowly and he stepped into the room with small, hesitant tiptoe movements that only served to endear him further to her. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he murmured in a soft voice, expression impossibly even softer. “How are you doing?” 

“Better. Thank you.” He nodded, holding out the med kit like a peace offering and then gesturing to it redundantly. 

“Can I...?”

“Sure.” 

Theta moved to sit next to Kit on his bed, opening the medical kit and rummaging about as he looked for the healing salve. He nodded when he found it, turning back to her before seeming to realize the dilemma they were now in. Gallifreyans, and Time Lords especially, didn’t do any skin on skin contact and especially not when they were alone. Holding hands was one thing, a gesture between good friends that was looked down upon but not considered even remotely improprietary, but Kit’s arms and most likely a good portion of her abdomen would be exposed during this. As touch telepaths, non-finger to temple contact was still more than sufficient to pass along feelings. But at the same time, Kit’s bruises needed proper looking after. Sensing this dilemma, Kit shrugged. 

“Theta, I trust you. You’re my best friend... I share everything with you anyway,” she muttered, her face heating in embarrassment. “But if you want to put on some clinical gloves beforehand I get it. This is... different.” Theta swallowed, nodding, before taking a deep breath and dipping his fingers into the salve. Kit’s smile was more than enough to tell him he’d made the right choice, but the sudden influx of foreign emotions he received from her did more than words could possibly ever say. 

Her gratitude that he trusted her that much, that he accepted her to that degree and felt no shame in being her friend... it was as if his own thoughts were being reflected back at him. 

Kit’s sharp intake of breath snapped him out of his stupor and Theta immediately refocused on applying the salve to her injuries. 

It was only because Theta managed to convince his elder brother Brax to vouch for them that Kit was allowed to remain at the House of Lungbarrow until the holiday season had ended. At that, she was expected to be seen and not heard (and even then the ‘seen’ aspect was to be kept at a minimum), to promptly attend each meal, and to not go anywhere without a chaperone. This last part proved to be almost ridiculously easy to abide by considering that Theta was all but physically glued to her. As for the other points...

...Well.

It was safe to say that the only reason they didn’t get in trouble for not meeting them was because the old hermit who sat under the tree at the edge of their lands was someone even the most bitter of Theta’s relatives held in a strange sort of respectful regard so long as he kept his distance. The fact that the two children had stumbled upon and somehow won his favor was less well-received more than tolerated, and if he so happened to keep them well past supper they had no qualms to justify. And, if anyone were to ask, the adults would say they were relieved that the two were too caught up hearing the old man’s words of strange roundabout wisdom rather than setting things on fire (which Theta was somewhat known for even if it was on accident). 

But as it was, Kit and Theta spent the holiday together and neither of them could ever remember actually being happy about spending time with relatives prior to that occasion. 

~§§~

The Academy was... different after that holiday. Koschei returned in a strange state of mind that, no matter how his two friends tried to break him from it, he stayed stubbornly stuck in. Of their little group of dissidents they were slowly gaining more people. What had once been Three was now ten, or - as everyone but themselves referred to them as - The Deca. All of them were a part of it for different reasons, but it brought them together. Even Ushas, who never liked to join anything, seemed to find comradeship among other vaguely-like-minded peers. 

Work and study took an earnest, difficult turn. Both Theta and Kit admitted to each other quite often that they would well be lost without the other, as Theta understood the technical and hands-on material while Kit excelled at the written and obscure. They frequently were found on the floor of the commons in the dormitory with their notes spread around them in a mess of white and color-coded chaos exchanging facts and helping one another. For the most part the others joined in, and while no one admitted it aloud everyone privately conceded that it wouldn’t have been possible without Arkytior flashing large, unbearably begging puppy eyes as she asked them to form a study group. 

When they weren’t focusing on their studies any member of the Deca could usually be found playing truant, either escaping into the nearby city or the wild red plains. As for Theta and Arkytior, they were rarely out of each other’s sight. 

~§§~

At the young age of 113, the beginnings of adolescence had made everyone somewhat irritable. The world had potential but it was still out of their reach, and personal relationships had begun to be cultivated due to political alliance. While Kit was being urged by her House to make a union with Koschei’s and Theta was being discouraged from having any association with either of them, The Deca in general remained a vaguely-united group drawn together by mutual discontent and the desire of youth to rebel. In short, none of them were listening to their elders about forming and dissolving political ties. That would change later, as they matured, but at the moment they were the stereotypical hormonal delinquents who had to ask their mums for permission to start a gang. 

Ironically, Narvin’s mum said no. Not that that stopped him (it did a little bit). 

The problem was, school was getting difficult. Even with the study sessions Theta was seriously beginning to struggle and Kit was failing her hands-on labs. Part of the reason for that was sheer stress and challenge level, but there were other factors involved. One of which became more and more prominent as they grew older. 

Thing was, Theta had no problem admitting to himself that he was besotted. But saying that aloud, much less to his only friend when he wasn’t sure she felt the same way, well. It wasn’t a very good idea. He internalized, the stress building every time they held hands and he had to refrain from projecting his feelings for her over the base-level empathic connection. It all came to a head in the library late one evening. 

The room had long since been locked up, and they had snuck in after hours to browse the restricted section. It was just the pair of them in close-confined dim shelving trying not to sneeze at barely-touched books, and for some of them Kit had to stand on his shoulders to reach them because that section didn’t have a ladder. 

“Find anything particularly taboo?” He called in a hoarse whisper, wincing as his voice cracked. 

“Not really, just a bunch of boring stuff on temporal engineering reserved for the CIA, but... ooh! Got one!” Kit leapt off Theta’s shoulders with the dusty tome in hand and landed nimbly on her toes, and together they sat on the floor with their backs braced against the shelving. She cracked it open, Theta peering over her shoulder, and silently they began to read. 

Much of the content didn’t make sense. Talk of bodily chemicals, hormones, reactions. What did that mean, reactions? It wasn’t until later into the chapter that they began to get an inkling as to what it was all about when the book started talking about telepathic intimacy. 

“...What was the book called again?” Theta asked softly. Kit shrugged, looking uneasy. 

“They painted the name out. Figured it had to mean it was extra forbidden.” 

“I mean... yeah...” Kit turned the page and they both sucked in a breath. “Oh...” 

The two open pages showed rather... detailed depictions of both the female and male body. Naked. And drawing special attention to certain bits they hadn’t even realized belonged to anything sexual.

“Oops,” Kit whispered, face flaming red. Theta let out a squeak and reached around her arm to snap the book shut. “My bad.”

“We should call it a night,” he said. “You know, turn in early. Give it a brea- _rest. Give it a rest_.” 

“Were you just about to say-?”

“So, uh, yeah. Night!” Kit was left to blink as he left only a trail of dust in his wake to mark his presence as he booked it out of the library. 

Fifteen nights and fourteen days of studiously avoiding each other later, Kit crept back into the library. Sue her, she was curious. But involving Theta probably wasn’t a good idea, given the reaction he had had the last time. 

She climbed the shelf and pulled the book back down from its perch, curling up on the floor and thumbing through the pages at breakneck speed. She was in a hurry to get it all absorbed so that she could process it later when there wasn’t a danger of being caught, and about ten minutes later she stood and moved to put it back on the shelf when she noticed Theta standing as still and pale as a white marble statue at the end of the aisle. 

“Hi,” she said shyly, going beet red. 

“Hey,” he murmured back, swallowing several times. His gaze drifted to the book clutched in her fingers. “Um- well, this is...”

“Awkward?”

“...Yeah.” He gestured uselessly to the book. “Can I...?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. Sure.” Kit scurried over to him and shoved it into his chest, causing him to stumble backward a few steps as she swept out of the library. He frowned as he thumbed through the pages himself, eyes widening as he understood her embarrassment.

“What is _with_ you two?” Koschei sighed, plopping down beside Theta in the courtyard. The boy flinched and stared at the grass. “Oh, come on. Tell me.”

“Nope.” 

“Then I’ll have to ask her.” 

“ _No!_ ” Koschei raised an eyebrow and Theta coughed. “Uh, no. Don’t do that.”

“Then _tell me_.” 

“We... ahem... found a... a book.”

“About...?”

“...Reproductive biology. And the... mm... means to go about it.”

“...Oh.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Oh, mate.”

“Yep.” 

Needless to say, they couldn’t even look at each other for three weeks and when they finally started talking again it was a full seventeen months before things stopped being awkward.

~§§~

At one hundred and seventy-seven (the biological human equivalent of 17), Things got awkward again. But for an altogether entirely different reason.

By this point Koschei wasn’t anything like the boy they both remembered, and the Deca were growing up and beginning to show an interest in the political world. In short, all they really had was each other. The problem was that Theta was having a harder and harder time seeing Kit as merely a friend - albeit a best friend - and more in a speculatively romantic way. He’d had these feelings for ages, but it was getting harder and harder to keep them hidden. 

Hence the problem. Time Lords, and Time Lords in training applicable as well, weren’t supposed to have romantic affections toward their peers. But then she laughed, or smiled in that way she had where she stuck her tongue between her teeth, eyes sparkling. Or she rested her head against his shoulder during the evenings when they lounged under a silver cadonwood tree outside the border walls of the Academy. And sometimes, he fancied that she felt the same way. There was just no good way to tell. Worse yet, she’d begun to notice that he was physically and emotionally pulling back from her to keep his sanity. 

It worked.

...Up to a point, but the other problem was that he didn’t want anyone to be affectionate toward her either. 

Which was how he and Koschei ended up in a rather vicious fistfight when Kit rejected Koschei’s affections and he responded in a rather... okay, he rather forcibly grabbed her wrist and kissed her when she clearly didn’t want it. Which was why Theta gave him a black eye for his troubles and effectively strained their friendship in the worst way possible.

“Are you okay?” Theta asked gently as he turned toward Kit, Koschei slinking off to lick his wounds. Kit rubbed at her wrist and cast him a glare.

“Like you actually care,” she muttered. He blinked.

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been pulling away from me for _months_ , Theta! What else am I supposed to think? Look, if you don’t want to be friends anymore I get it, all right? We’ve got to start thinking about political alliances, and-“ her words were cut off as he abruptly leaned in and kissed her, gently pushing some of the bangs falling from her bun behind her ear. When he leaned away she was staring at him, frozen and wide-eyed. Unconsciously she licked her lips and his gaze was riveted by the tiny strip of pink. 

“Oh...” she breathed before leaning toward him and eagerly reciprocating. 

They kept it secret, as they had to do. Discovery of the new development in their relationship would mean expulsion from the Academy for the both of them, but they would soon be out. They just had to last until then, and then they could elope before their families had settled on their arranged marriages. 

In the meantime they met as often as possible under their tree, experimenting with kissing and cuddling and different levels of telepathic intimacy but not quite daring to go any further physically. Even getting as far as they had was seen as submitting to the basest of primal instincts, and their culture was so against any form of carnal contact that it properly terrified the pair of them to even consider it let alone suggest it. Getting caught in a romantic relationship was one thing, but to get caught and have be known that they... well. It truly didn’t bear thinking about. 

For the first time they were both glad they had read that book those few decades ago, because they weren’t entirely clueless as to what was going on. This did not, however, prevent Theta from accidentally requesting to form a provisional - or engagement - bond in the middle of what they had playfully termed ‘telepathic canoodling’ nor prevent Kit from accident accepting it. They had been riding high on instincts and both abruptly pulled their fingers from one another’s temples in shock. To their surprise and initial dismay the connection they shared didn’t sever like it should have done. 

On a base level, they were semi-permanently connected. Kit was still in Theta’s mind to a degree even with limited distance, and Theta was in Kit’s. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, hugging his knees to his chest and refusing to look at her.

“What for?” Kit asked, head tilting slightly to the side as her brow furrowed. 

“I wanted to ask, properly. I wanted to properly propose that we bond,” he muttered miserably. “I messed it up.”

“Hey, Theta. Theta, look at me,” she said, gently placing her fingers under his chin and moving his head so that they made eye contact. She smiled. “It was spontaneous, and that is very us. And- hey, do I look upset to you?” She gently caressed the thin strands binding their minds together and he shivered. “Do I _feel_ upset?”

“...No.” He smiled as Kit leaned in for a kiss.

“Because I’m not.” 

Their professors were suspicious of their sudden and mutual rise in testing and schoolwork, but an unexpected side benefit of sharing an engagement bond was that, with the other’s memories floating about on the peripheral of their awareness, they both picked up the content matter neither understood by an odd form of telepathic osmosis. Doing better in school meant that they were under less scrutiny from their peers and professors and that their families at least had a grudging level of respect toward them. 

They alternated spending holidays with each other - though the third time Theta visited Heartshaven he was told to never come back when a cousin walked in on the pair of them kissing in the library - because the Bond made it somewhat unbearable to not be near one another. Not in a painful sense, but in a magnetic sense. They were continually drawn to one another, because the Bond instinctively sought completion into a full marriage Bond. The pair, at least wanting to do one thing right by the laws of their planet, were determined to wait until they were both of ‘legal’ or ‘adult’ age, which was 200. At 187 this wasn’t too long to wait. 

When finals came around they passed with 57%, which earned them a grade of ‘Satisfying.’ Neither of them could have managed that without the Bond, and they were both well aware of it. 

When they graduated and were allowed to pick a title, the pair raced down to the registrar’s office. Kit had elected to retain her Parent-given name which had been suitable for the Academy, loving the way Theta lovingly caressed each vowel and consonant as it left his mouth, but Theta - who had always hated his, was only too eager to change his to something new. Kit had suggested the title because of the night he’d found her in the rain all those years ago and patched up her cuts and bruises. Just as she loved the way he said ‘Arkytior,’ he loved the way she said ‘Doctor.’ 

They had found less time to see each other outside of work as of late. Theta - now called The Doctor though Kit still used her nickname for him - had moved out of Lungbarrow and into Arcadia, opening a small repair shop that had an apartment over it. Kit worked as his secretary, and thus they needed no excuse to see one another, but she was expected to return to Heartshaven promptly at the end of the day and was only allowed to arrive at the shop early in the afternoon. Her family had been busy trying to groom her for politics and were adamant in selecting a husband for her. 

As a result of their limited casual time together, the Doctor made sure to close the shop one day out of the week. It wasn’t announced anywhere, just posted on the door, and the pair of them would sneak off to the lake and the grasslands where their tree rested on a hill and overlooked the shining waters. 

This particular lake was not meant to be swum in. There was an unspoken rule, and the very atmosphere around the lake was heavy and still. All the same, Kit was feeling nervous this particular afternoon; she had just turned 200, the Doctor some months prior to her, and she had no idea if he would propose marriage this evening or not. She’d given the excuse before leaving home that morning that she would be needed for preparation of a large shipment of supplies and parts well into the night, something her family had grudgingly allowed so long as she was back by dawn, so that they could celebrate together. She’d given the same excuse on the Doctor’s birthday as well, but as far as they could tell her family were none the wiser. At any rate, her nerves were getting the better of her.

They were lounging on the grass by the banks of the water picking lazily at a picnic they’d brought when a fly darted across the water and gave her an idea. The Doctor’s eyebrows flew into his shaggy hairline as Kit stood and began to disrobe, mouth hanging slack when she was clad in only her slip.

“...Kit?” He choked, somehow more shocked by the fact that she was stepping into the water than the fact that she had effectively undressed right in front of him. She raised her chin in challenge. 

“Coming?” 

Mechanically, he worked at freeing himself from his robe. It was mostly off of his shoulders and exposing his chest when he paused, biting his lip as he stared at his abdomen. Taking a deep breath, he let the heavy garments slide off the rest of the way until he was only in his pants and hurried to join her in the water. 

Neither had seen so much skin of the other before, and Kit’s eyes were wide as she took in his abdomen.

“Theta?” 

“Yeah, yeah. I know,” he muttered, skinny arms crossing uncomfortably over his scrawny chest. He’d never broadened out, remaining stubbornly small at the disappointing height of 5’8” (Kit was 5’6”) and maintaining the lithe build of a runner rather than a fighter. Kit’s hand stretched out and hovered hesitantly above his navel. 

“Can I...?”

“Yeah.” Despite the permission, he flinched as she cautiously explored the dimensions of his belly button. “I was loomed like that. My cousins gave me all sorts of horrible nicknames because of it,” he sighed, fingers touching the same spot on Kit’s body through the slip now clinging to her skin. Instead of a small bump or a small hole there was only a smooth slight concavement, as was typical for their species when being loomed. “Snail, proto-Gallifreyan... there are worse ones.”

“Well that’s not fair,” Kit argued. “You couldn’t help that.” 

“You’re not bothered by it?” He asked softly. She shook her head.

“I think I kinda like it, actually.” The Doctor’s eyes softened as he looked at her, a tender moment that ended in a squeak when she splashed him and then promptly dove under the surface of the water. He sighed, giving chase. 

Later, when they were spread out on the grass under their tree drying out from a rather playful swim in the lake no one was supposed to go in, the Doctor gathered the courage to pop the question. They were lying on their backs and he slowly sat up to stare down at her in awe. Her soft light blonde hair was fanned about her like a Heavenly aura, her long lashes closed over eyes he knew to be olive green. Freckles lightly dusted her pixie features and she looked so content in the light of the sunset that he felt his hearts catch in his throat. 

“Kit?”

“Mm?”

“Arkytior.” The reverent tone he used got her to open her eyes and regard him with a lazy contentment. 

“What?” 

“I- I was wondering if we... you know... could complete our Bond,” the Doctor said quickly, nervous nervy causing the words to burst out his mouth. Kit giggled and sat up. 

“Of course, Theta. I had a feeling you might ask tonight, with it being my 200th and all.”

“Not nearly as subtle as I think I am, huh?” He joked weakly as he rested his forehead against hers. They both slid their heads slightly to the side so that their temples were brushing directly, no need for hands. 

Willingly, they both deepened the connection. Instinct took over, the Bond shining brightly as more and more connections were established between their minds and the cord strengthened. They both gasped as their timelines bound them together permanently, weaving around one another so tightly as to be inseparable in life as well as in mind. They both whispered their true names into each other’s minds and there was a mental bright spark as the last of the walls separating them crumbled. They had a shared mindscape, as if when together they were side by side and holding each other, but there was freedom for them to each occupy a metaphorical opposite end of the room when apart. 

As he had access to all of her thoughts, emotions, and memories, so she had access to his. They were one in the most intimate sense, sharing one mind. 

Instinct prompted the Doctor to caress the Bond to show his appreciation, his affection. They were both still sensitive to it, trying to get the hang of how it worked properly. When they pulled out of the connection and came back to the corporeal world it burned brightly between them. The sky had long since gone dark while they had completed their Bond, and the look in Arkytior’s eyes said everything.


	2. Gallifrey II

“Theta?” The Doctor winced as his head hit the underside of the cupboard and he groaned as he slowly pulled away from the faulty electrical wiring underneath to glance up at the beautiful blond standing on the other side of the counter. 

“Hi Kit,” he said cheerfully, running a hand through messy dark hair as he regarded his best friend with sparkling hazel eyes. The smile on his face faded when he saw that she was looking ill and terrified. “What’s wrong?”

“Can you... maybe... close up for today? I need to go for a walk and I really, _really_ need to talk to you.” 

“Yeah sure, just let me get cleaned u-”

“No, _now,_ ” Arkytior said stubbornly, grabbing him by the arm and ignoring his startled yelp as she bodily dragged him from his repair shop. It was good work, really. He got to tinker and work as an inventor and the Gallifreyans of the city of Arcadia loved that they could have someone to fix their broken items. Just because something wasn’t working didn’t necessarily mean that it never would again and it was a true pity that no one else really seemed to grasp that. 

“Kit-”

“Not _yet_ , Theta!” He blinked, startled at the venom in those three words. He could feel her emotions running wild across their marriage bond and wondered just what was going on but held his tongue (mostly he didn’t want to get snapped at again) because something told him he would only make it worse if he didn’t. 

They all but ran out of the city and into the tall red grass of the surrounding plains of the mountain slopes until they stopped underneath their favorite tree. Arkytior suddenly stopped dead and plopped herself onto the ground in one swift motion that left him pinwheeling his arms to regain balance before he mirrored her cross-legged position a tad more slowly.

“Arkytior. What’s happened?”

“I wasn’t sure and I just- but then-” she groaned and dropped her face into her hands, wavy pastel gold hair falling in a long curtain to obscure her features. The Doctor gently moved several of the strands behind her ears and then clasped her hands in his own, pulling them away from her gently freckled pixie face. He was startled to see that there were tears in her olive-colored eyes. 

“Kit?”

“We need to leave, Theta. And soon,” she managed to choke out. His brow furrowed and he stiffened.

“What, why? What’s wrong with Arcadia?”

“Not Arcadia, Gallifrey. We need to leave Gallifrey.”

“Did your parents say they had selected a husband for you?” He asked sharply. She nodded. “Mine selected my intended wife three months ago, but we’re together. We’re married. They can’t dissolve our union, we’ve mated for life with an unbreakable telepathic marriage bond. We did everything correctly, we just... eloped. We can fight it, all right? And if they’re pressuring you-” 

“It’s not the arranged marriages,” Arkytior interrupted with a shuddering breath as she stared unseeing at the grass. 

“Well, then I’m very confused,” the Doctor muttered. He shifted closer until their knees were touching and she finally looked into his face. His very young face. Oh, they were both so young... barely past the age of two hundred and thus hardly even adults, he still hadn’t begun to develop facial hair. She still had some residual baby fat left clinging to her cheekbones even if it was slowly dissolving as she got older... She swallowed thickly and tightened her grip on their hands.

“Theta, you know how we read those books in the restricted section of the library when we should have been studying for our exams?” She began slowly. He nodded, entirely focused on her and what she was saying. “And... and what we did with that knowledge.” 

“Yes,” he murmured happily. “I married you in the traditional way of our people. The way we should marry _naturally_ , with the bond.”

“Yeah, but... under this tree. When we... consummated. Physically.” Despite the situation, she rolled her eyes at the dreamy look on his face before he snapped back into focus. “Uh huh, that. Good, you remember.” 

“‘Course I do. I remember every single second I spend with you,” he replied softly. “I love you. I don’t want to hide the fact that I made a lifelong commitment to you anymore.” Arkytior bit her lip and nodded. 

“We need to leave Gallifrey, because...” she drew another shuddering breath and swallowed again, slowly drawing their clasped hands up to direct his fingers to splay across her stomach. “Because when we... Despite the insanely low chances of... you know... I conceived,” she huffed in a quick release of breath. His slightly confused expression made her groan. “I’m with child, Theta. There’s a baby, your baby, growing inside of me.” She applied slight pressure to where his hands were splayed. “In here.” 

His wide, innocent eyes grew large as twin moons as they flicked to her abdomen and his mouth worked uselessly to attempt to form coherent thought, but mostly he just gaped. 

“See?” Arkytior murmured miserably. “A telepathic bond would have been seen as primitive, but it wouldn’t have been a problem. But having a child the natural way? That’s illegal.” Her shoulders slumped as she began to cry. “They’d make me kill it, Theta. They’d make me kill our baby just because we didn’t use the Looms...” 

The Doctor whimpered as he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead. She collapsed against his chest and curled up in his lap as he held her while she cried, peppering her with kisses wherever he could place them on her head. 

“Meet me outside of my shop a week from tonight in the evening and bring all of the things you don’t want to leave behind,” he whispered. She looked back up at him and hiccuped. 

“...What?”

“I won’t let them kill our baby,” he said softly as he stroked her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “So we’ll leave.”

“You- you want to- to keep it? Even though we didn’t use the Looms to make sure it was... well, perfect?”

“This baby exists because of how much I love you and you love me,” he said reassuringly as he stroked her hair. “A result of our lifelong marriage commitment. They’re half you, half me. I think that’s the most beautiful and perfect thing I’ve ever heard. We never expected... the fact that it’s here is a miracle in and of itself. So, what do you say? Will you help me steal a Time Capsule and run away?” 

“Yes,” Arkytior whispered. “Yes.” The Doctor responded by gently rolling her off of his lap and into a sitting position so that he could lean forward and, lifting up her shirt, press a long and lingering kiss to her at-present flat stomach. 

~§§~

The week couldn’t have passed quickly enough. Despite her discretion Arkytior fully suspected her mother and father were keeping a close eye on her; she’d run from the room when they’d told her they’d negotiated with another House a suitable husband for her and they had forbidden she and the Doctor to see each other when they’d done so, forcing her to quit her secretary work at his shop. So, despite her best efforts, the way that one of her cousins always seemed within visual range suggested that they knew full well she was packing and that they were just waiting for her to run. 

As for the Doctor, it was more difficult than he’d wanted it to be to set affairs in order to sell his shop with the overhead flat attached to it. He’d managed to sell it the night before he needed to leave. Brax had swung by the day after he’d done it to catch him in the process of stuffing a trans-dimensional backpack full of his half-finished personal projects and currently unused clothing as well as knickknacks, small personal items of sentimental value.

“She’s not that bad, not really,” Braxiatel had laughed. His grin had faded when he saw his brother’s face. “Oh, please. You’re not still hung up over Arkytior, are you? Theta, face it. That’s not going to happen.”

“If you have nothing positive to contribute then I suggest you leave,” the Doctor retorted in a worryingly even and neutral tone. He didn’t bother looking up to deign the exchange with eye contact. Brax swallowed.

“You’re going to elope, aren’t you?” He asked flatly. His younger brother sighed, pausing in his task.

“I’ve already done that, Brax. The old-fashioned way. The _proper_ way.”

“Then why...?” His sharp intake of breath had the Doctor looking up to finally acknowledge him. They exchanged a long, long look in which Brax’s contemplative expression changed into one of stunned panic and the Doctor’s remained steady and knowing. “Theta.”

“We’ll send a picture, Brax.” He hitched his bag over his shoulder and began trudging down the steps. 

“Just... be careful,” Braxiatel pleaded. “I know you don’t believe me whenever I tell you this, but I do care for you. Genuinely. So please. Be careful.”

“We will be,” the Doctor murmured as he paused in the door before disappearing into the night. Braxiatel swallowed when he watched him meet up with Arkytior just outside. The soft, tense kiss and the way his younger brother’s hand came up to rest protectively on his bond mate’s abdomen confirmed more than a thousand words ever could.

~§§~

Arkytior’s family had followed her despite how careful she had been. They ran through the streets in desperation as they headed for the TT Capsule museum, hands linked and swinging like mad as they tried to outrun the sound of heavy boots thundering behind them. 

Out of nowhere an elderly couple appeared to knock over several bins and everything went incredibly hazy. The only thing they remembered was the man shoving an old, carved wooden box into the Doctor’s hands and the woman slipping a glass bottle into Arkytior’s, and then suddenly the blurry image dissolved as they heard the doors of the museum lock behind them. The couple’s silhouettes could be seen through the frosted glass door panes for a few moments before taking off down a side street. The noise of their departure prompted their pursuers to chase after a false scent. 

The Doctor and Arkytior stared dumbly at one another for a good few moments as they tried to catch their breath in clipped panting rasps.

“Who was...?” She began uncertainty. 

“I have no idea.” They glanced at the items in their hands. “What did they give you?” Arkytior read the label on the bottle and blanched, her jaw working as she swallowed a few times.

“Morning Sickness medication, safe for Gallifreyans,” she croaked before hastily pocketing it in her trans-dimensional satchel and gesturing to the box. “You?” 

“Uh...” The Doctor fumbled with the clasp before popping the lid and gasped, his eyes instantly glistening with unshed tears. He turned the case to show her. “Bonding pendants.” Arkytior’s hands came to cover her mouth. 

“Oh, Theta...” 

“I don’t know what the rings are for though...” he murmured, brow furrowing. She let out a soft giggle as she gazed longingly at the two carved pendants on the chains and the two bands inscribed with Old High Gallifreyan on the outside showing their names joined together in one long, continuous string of separate characters. The carvings on the pendants showed the same thing on the edges with the Seal of Rassilon on the slightly curved medallion portion. The rings, pendants, and chains were in dull rose gold but the carvings on the pendants had been filled in with brilliant red poured and polished vermilion.

“Half the universe recognizes pendants to signify marriage, the other half rings, and the small amount that doesn’t do either knows what they mean anyway,” she sighed as she trailed her fingers lovingly over the smaller of the two pendants and rings. A small white point star diamond sliver had been fused to her ring - likely when the metal was still molten. 

“Oh," he whispered with wide eyes. She glanced up at him and nodded toward the dark shadows of the museum. “Yes, right. We should probably leave now.” The box closed with a reverent snap and he tucked it under his arm as he linked his fingers with her. They ventured deeper in until they came upon the row of nondescript cylindrical capsules. 

“Anything particularly strike your fancy?” Arkytior asked. The Doctor shook his head, then froze when he saw a small piece of paper affixed to one. Curious, he wandered over. “What’s it say?”

“It says... ‘Take me I’m bored and the door is unlocked,’” he read with a slight frown before gently pressing on the aforementioned door. It opened easily to his touch and shrugging he crumpled the note before shoving it in one of his pockets. “Guess this is the one.”

“Ooh, she’s a Type 40 Mark III,” Arkytior breathed. “They’re rare. Most were destroyed during the Eternal Wars with the Great Vampires...”

“Vampires?” The Doctor let out a whistle as he leaned against the console in the still-darkened main room. “She’s _old_.” 

The lights abruptly came on to reveal a stark white hexagonal room with a smooth floor and roundels emitting soft cool brightness. The console was all chrome and switches and a short glass rotor and the Doctor let out a yelp as the ship sent an electric current through it.

“I think she likes you,” his bond mate laughed. He glared at her, something that made her laugh harder, and grumbling he flicked what he assumed was the lever to close and lock the doors. He beamed when it worked. He then noticed something resting near his hand and picked both objects up. Two shiny keys.

“I think she likes _us,_ ” he retorted, tossing her one. “Now, how do you fly...?”

“Theta, did you _ever_ pass your driver’s test?” Arkytior groaned. 

“...No.” 

“Let me then,” the Time Lady sighed. The moment she rested her hand on the edge of the console her eyes widened. “Theta, come over here and do what I’m doing.” 

“Why?” 

“Just-”

“Fine, fine. I’ll do it. ...Oh.” They both inhaled slightly as they felt the ship reach out to them telepathically and after a short, hesitant glance they both let her in, gasping as she initiated and completed the pilot bonds with both of them. When the ship withdrew they could still feel her humming warmly in the back of their minds.

“Why do I get the feeling we’ve just been adopted by our TT Capsule like a pair of homeless kittens?” Arkytior asked. The ship let out a short, tinkling noise that sounded suspiciously like a laugh and she felt a sort of directed mental warmth envelope her abdomen. Her hand came up to press against the area with a soft ‘oh.’ She then smiled softly at her husband, who was watching her warily in case she was about to tell him something was wrong with the baby. “I think that when I get further along our ship might start nesting without us,” she explained in a stage whisper. 

The Doctor’s eyes widened before he relaxed and let out a soft, tired chuckle. 

“Well,” he sighed. “I’m going to put us into the Vortex- actually, since you passed your test maybe you should do that while I watch- and then we can see if there’s a galley or any bedrooms on board. Okay?”

“That sounds wonderful,” she murmured tiredly, unconsciously stroking her stomach as she closed her eyes and basked in the comforting protective warmth of the ship’s telepathic field. The Doctor smiled softly at her and watched as she moved in a slow, uncertain pattern looking for the correct controls as she sent them into the Vortex. The ship shuddered slightly and made an odd wheezing sound before fading out and they were free. 

Hand in hand they walked slowly down the corridors looking for rooms and all but sighed in relief as a large suited bedroom appeared. There was a gigantic walk-in closet and wonderful en-suite complete with floor-recessed tub and waterfall shower, but the object of most interest at present was the king-sized bed dominating a fair chunk of the main room. 

Arkytior sank onto it with a weary sigh and the Doctor shook his head before bringing the box to rest it on his lap. He opened it and took out Arkytior’s ring and pendant. She blinked at him as he lifted the chain over her head and they both admired how it rested on her clavicle for a few moments before he slid the ring onto the second longest finger of her left hand. Neither had dared hope that they would be allowed to wear bonding pendants on Gallifrey and here they were. He then offered the case to her and she took both remaining items, waiting patiently for him to close the box and set it on the floor with their two bags. She then dropped his pendant around his neck and slid the ring onto his ring finger, and for a moment they just gazed at one another before he darted in to carefully wrap his arms around her waist and tug her back flush against his chest. He then collapsed backwards into the extensive pillows. 

“Theta, what-”

“I’ve never been able to share space with you before,” he murmured into her ear. The words sent a chill down her spine. “This is our home now, Kit. I love you.” He rested a hand on her stomach. “I love our little one. And I think I’m going to love seeing all of time and space and the dimensions relative to ours with you.”

“Time And Relative Dimensions In Space,” she rephrased slowly. “T-A-R-D-I-S. TARDIS. I like it.” She patted the wall. “What about you, Dear?” The ship hummed in approval. “Right, well then. Guess we’ve got a proper ship now that she’s named.”

“I truly, deeply love you,” he sighed happily. 

~§§~

They were cautious the first few places they landed at, but they really did need to purchase foodstuffs and simple appliances, so they landed on a few asteroid bazaars here and there to stock up. Shortly after that Arkytior’s morning sickness hit her brutally and they spent most of the time drifting in the Vortex in their en-suite. The Doctor had a tendency to hover and always appeared with both her medication and a glass of water as well as a cool, damp flannel for her forehead when she was certain she was finished. They were both relieved to see that the longer they stayed aboard the more personal things became. The bedroom, which had been in whites and grays and bare of anything but the bed that first night, had shifted to encompass their tastes. Rich cherry woods and soft fern greens dominated the upholstery and furniture. The carpet was a dark slate gray, thick and soft beneath their feet, and they had a mantel fireplace with a loveseat in front of it. Above the mantel was a large rectangular landscape picture of a moonlit beach and they had quickly discovered that if they wanted to watch a film in bed the TARDIS would exchange the artwork temporarily for a wall-mounted TV. In a corner was a library nook and desk with a recliner and swivel stool respectively. The shelves were already filled with Arkytior’s books, the desk strewn with the Doctor’s projects. 

They had a simulated open window with white curtains depicting the red fields of Gallifrey above their headboard, the silver trees dotting the ground and the snow-capped mountains in the distance. The ship made sure to routinely leave a fresh vase of the native flowers on Arkytior’s night table and new volumes on quantum mechanics on the Doctor’s. Their ceiling was a simulation of Gallifrey’s sky. During the day cycle it was burnt orange and showed the relative position of the suns at the time, and during the night cycle they had an entirely clear, unhindered by light pollution view of the constellations of their home planet. 

The en-suite had quickly shifted to include two sinks at the wide (and now wider) counter for them, a large mirror dominating that portion of the wall in front of it. The colors had shifted to match their bedroom. The walk-in closet very clearly had a His side and a Hers side and for that they were grateful seeing as she tended to be extremely haphazard with her clothing and he was much more organized. 

As for the rest of the ship, the Galley existed in shades of lavender, pale grey, and soft yellows. The perishable foods were kept in temporal stasis by the ship for preserved and prolonged storage. An extensive book rested on the slate grey countertop pertaining to foods and substances that Time Lords needed to avoid, at the top of the list being aspirin (which could kill but was regarded the universe over as a pain reliever for other species) and ginger (as an intoxicant equal to roughly a cellar’s worth of alcohol if consumed). The Library was vast and massive, modeled after the one at the Academy, and they actually got lost on their first venture in because the shelves were so tall and massive. The media room was modestly advanced and the Console Room, as if recognizing that they were still learning the ropes, had shifted to move all of the systems usually hidden behind the roundels in the walls to be open banks of technology for quick and easy access. Arkytior had an art studio and the Doctor had a laboratory. They both adored the music room. The med bay was up to the most modern Gallifreyan standards with every form of equipment necessary and was luckily fully stocked with supplies.

For the most part the ship was kind to them as they settled in, but she demanded after a particularly clumsy landing that Arkytior read the user’s manual. She did so, dutifully, before handing a copy (not the original) to The Doctor. He scowled at it and ignored the parts he disagreed with. The TARDIS was patient, though. She would spend days on end just showing them around her circuits and showed them how to make repairs. Arkytior took a special shine to this part after the way the Doctor reacted upon seeing her with her hair in a mussed bun and engine grease streaked across her face. It drove him crazy. 

One morning, Arkytior awoke to find that a stack of books were resting next to the flowers on her bedside table. They were all about Gallifreyan pregnancy and the Doctor awoke to his bond mate crying beside him. After managing to convince him that she was fine she explained what had been the reason for it and then it was _his_ turn to cry. Neither one of them had had a clue what to do about it as there hadn’t been a womb-born Gallifreyan in several hundred millennia, and they hadn’t exactly been able to go ask for source material before they’d left the planet without raising suspicions. While one had never mentioned it to the other, as the weeks slowly dragged by they had become more and more anxious.

...It turned out that Arkytior’s extremely unpredictable mood swings that neither of them had known what to do with were a result of the hormones now raging through her body. 

When Arkytior hit her fifth month of the pregnancy the Doctor returned from haggling for a specific part he’d needed to find his bond mate lying underneath the TARDIS’ console working on some wiring. Her shirt had ridden up and his breath caught when he noticed the slight but present distention of her lower abdomen. She’d been gaining weight of course (not that he’d ever say so for fear of death), but this was the first time she looked properly pregnant instead of having just put on a few pounds. 

She tossed him a quizzical look when he knelt on the floor beside her but froze, eyes wide, when her sensitive nerves took note of the way his fingers were curving along the gentle swell of her stomach. He kissed her deeply and asked what she wanted for dinner as they had something to celebrate (plus she’d been getting some very exacting cravings recently and he didn’t want to upset the delicate balance). 

He found her half an hour later standing in front of the full length mirror in their walk-in clad in nothing but her bra and knickers inspecting her midsection and he’d purred at the sight, prompting a light smack to the arm in response. 

The fact was that they’d never seen an expectant mother before and the visible evidence of their developing child was fascinating to look at no matter how slight it was at present. The gentle swell turned into a tiny bump and the tiny bump into a modest curve. Arkytior had developed time travel cravings where she fancied 23rd century Aspartia Meloor one day and 79th century Fortoom IV the next and it gave them good practice learning to fly as a dual unit but also as singular entities. 

The Doctor had taken to reading his books at night when Arkytior took her pregnancy- required nightly two hour kip, but on the evenings he slept as well he discovered that he rather enjoyed curving himself around the two most precious people in his life and draping a protective arm over his bond mate’s now-generous belly regardless of whether she was facing him or had her back to him, and Arkytior would often wake on those occasions to find that he had shifted in his sleep until his head was resting partially in the center of her chest so that he could be as close to her baby bump as possible. It was extremely endearing and she liked to run her fingers through his hair before he awoke just to see how messy she could make it. It had grown shaggy and unkempt over the last few months and she was subtly trying to prompt him into admitting he needed a haircut, but true to stubborn form he never so much as made a comment of complaint on the matter. 

At eight months their baby reached out to make telepathic contact and establish the familial bonds that existed between child and parents. Arkytior had been drying dishes while the Doctor washed and rinsed, and the sound of a plate shattering had nearly caused him to slice his hand open on a hidden underwater knife when he’d flinched in response. 

“Theta.” Arkytior had turned to him with wide eyes clutching at her belly and he’d wondered if it were possible to regenerate from anxiety-induced stress. 

“Kit, are you okay? What?”

“Theta, this is the most beautiful feeling ever...” 

...It had taken a long time for his blood pressure to return to normal even when he’d pressed his temple to her abdomen and made telepathic contact with his unborn... 

Daughter. They were having a daughter. 

And thus went the wild frenzy of trying to settle on names. They hadn’t wanted anything too Gallifreyan because the idea of naming their precious little girl after a society that would still want to kill her while she was developing simply for the method in which her parents had chosen to bring her into the world was ironicly horrible. They’d dabbed at cultures with similar-sounding languages before giving up on that and picking the planet Earth. The humans they’d met in their travels had had, they thought, interesting names and even if they sounded quite plain at times the meaning was usually something special. However, this by no means meant they could settle on _anything_. She was in her ninth month now out of the total thirteen and they still hadn’t landed even a shortlist. 

“Emily, Olivia...” The Doctor muttered under his breath as he flipped through the pregnancy book they were currently jointly working their way through and cursing the bad luck that they’d lost the bookmark. Arkytior heard him anyway even from her position in their walk-in sifting through her maternity clothes. 

“Lillian, Aurora,” she countered stubbornly. They both began talking over each other, sending out possible names they preferred and ignoring the other.

“Jane, Anna, Susan...” The Doctor mused. He suddenly became aware that Arkytior was no longer talking.

“What was the last one?” She called, sticking her head through the closet opening. He sat up straighter, hopeful they were finally getting somewhere, and repeated it. She placed her hand on her protruding belly and grinned. “She kicked. Say it again.” So he did, and his bond mate flashed him a beaming tongue in teeth grin. He repeated it a few more times, the smile getting impossibly wider and wider on each occasion, before she finally explained.

“She keeps kicking whenever you say that. I think she likes it.”

“Of course she does,” the Doctor cooed as he walked over and knelt to talk to the taut round curve of his unborn child. “It’s Hebrew for ‘graceful lily.’ She wants to be named after a gorgeous flower like her mother.” 

“Silver-tongue,” Arkytior muttered good-naturedly and ruffled his hair. The rumbling purr she got in response made her laugh. 

At ten months the books had warned that the baby’s metabolism would increase exponentially to accommodate for an accelerated growth period. While both of them had been aware of this they hadn’t exactly known what it meant until Arkytior’s still-modest bump had begun barely noticeably swelling on a day by day basis. She was constantly hungry for the strangest things and it made her even more tired than usual. The flitting aches and pains became constant and worsened, and by her twelfth month she was in a perpetual state of moderate discomfort. Their darling girl seemed to rather enjoy paddling her feet against her mother’s internal organs while she tried to sleep, so the Doctor began reading to her to keep her calm.

“She loves her daddy’s voice,” Arkytior murmured drowsily one afternoon as they sat in the library. The Doctor hummed in happy acknowledgement as he massaged the knots out of her back and she continued, more teasingly, “Well on the bright side she’ll never have to do without.” 

He chuffed at her and rolled his eyes, tickling the nape of her neck with flutterwing kisses and smiling triumphantly when she began to purr in response. 

~§§~

As she was nearing the end of her twelfth month they decided to settle on a hospital and time period. Really, they should have done this sooner, but the fear that the Time Lords suspected their reason for leaving and were thus scanning for any potential check-ins having to do with humanoid parents giving birth to a two-hearted baby that just so happened to also have a respiratory bypass had been all-consuming. They heard tell quite by chance that Braxiatel had moved off of Gallifrey to set up an extensive art collection on an asteroid somewhere - after much persuading on Arkytior’s part as the Doctor didn’t want to be bothered by any relatives from Lungbarrow nor Heartshaven as they had both disowned their wayward children - and he sent his brother a rather cryptic, vague message that made it sound like an anonymous invitation to an auction with the coordinates attached for the hospital they had finally settled on. 

It was on New Earth in the year 5 Billion and the nurses were humanoid cat nuns, but still. They had done their own scans using the TARDIS med bay and monitored her progress, and so far both mother and baby were ridiculously healthy.

Precisely on schedule at thirteen full months exact - let it never be said Time Lords didn’t understand time - Arkytior went into labor and they checked in. She was given a private birthing suite and had been given painkillers but the Doctor couldn’t help but shudder every time she screamed anyway. She was in pain, a lot of it, because of something he’d done. She, however, didn’t necessarily see it that way and insisted it was worth it. The way she practically crushed his hand suggested otherwise, he thought. 

Gallifreyan births were slow and methodical. They took an astoundingly long time compared to human ones (which was really their only comparison that worked in a similar way) but in the end were far less risky for the baby and the mother. As the Gallifreyan baby was approximately 1.5 times larger than a full-term human the mother’s physiology had adapted to compensate for this, time being the biggest factor as the slower the progression the better for a safe and healthy birth when it came to their specific species. Around twenty-two hours of impassive movement was a general, apparently, and then the actual active pushing portion usually took less than an hour since everything had been correctly lined up prior.

So when Brax showed up about a day and a half later he was surprised to see a very tired-looking Doctor waiting for him. 

“You look like you haven’t slept in weeks,” he commented concernedly. The Doctor let out a short, exhausted laugh and nodded.

“Yeah, well, high stress will do that to you.” 

“And why would you have had a stressful day?” Brax was taking in their surroundings; considering he’d landed his TT Capsule in a broom cupboard, he was at a loss as to where he was without a little observation. He stilled and his eyes went wide. “Theta?” 

“This way,” the Doctor murmured softly as they walked. They paused outside of a private room and he smiled before walking in. Braxiatel followed far more cautiously, gaze alighting instantaneously on the small bundle resting in Arkytior’s arms. The Doctor had gone over to gently extract it from his bond mate and the soft mewling protests, the gentle squirms it made in response as he methodically adjusted his grip, had Brax forgoing breathing to tap into his bypass instead. 

“This is Susan, your niece,” the Doctor whispered quietly, walking across the room to peel back a fold of fabric and gaze proudly down. “Arkytior thought you would want to be here.” 

“She’s so tiny,” Brax murmured, reaching out and hovering uncertainly over the tiny girl with his hand. 

“Not tiny enough,” Arkytior grumbled good-naturedly. The Doctor winced sympathetically but said nothing and Brax thought it was best not to ask. His entire attention was fixed on the sleeping infant. 

She had short, curly dark hair of the brunette variety like her father but her facial features she got from her mother. The pixie face, slightly upturned nose, cupid’s bow lips and long eyelashes. He gently brushed a strand of hair away from her eyes and was startled when she shifted, moving about in her father’s arms to free one of her hands. The tiny fist closed around Brax’s finger and he gasped as she opened two large, curious olive-colored eyes. 

“Do you want to hold her?” The Doctor asked softly. Brax nodded wordlessly and listened attentively to all of his younger brother’s instructions before even allowing him to attempt baby transfer, and when she settled in his loose yet tight grip she let out a little sigh of contentment before promptly going back to sleep. 

“Theta, she’s _beautiful_ ,” he murmured.

“Some might say you were smitten, Brax,” Arkytior teased tiredly from the bed. He just nodded an affirmative and ignored the soft laughter his brother was emitting. 

“Are you coming back to Gallifrey now?” He asked. The room went incredibly quiet. “I guess that would be a ‘no.’”

“We’ve picked up wanderlust as a character trait while we were away,” the Doctor admitted unapologetically. “Why stay in one place when there’s so much out there?” 

“You’re always welcome to drop by my collection if you’re looking for somewhere other than a ship to call home,” Brax promised. 

~§§~ 

“I can’t get over how perfect she is,” Arkytior sighed, smiling as their daughter nuzzled against her bond mate’s chest as the three of them cuddled in their bed. 

“No no darling, I don’t have any food I’m afraid,” the Doctor chuckled as he gently handed Susan back over to her mother. He watched his precious girls and sighed softly. “Two months and look how much she’s grown...”

“She can’t stay so little forever dad,” Arkytior teased as she supported the infant’s head. 

“No I know, it’s just... I suppose I’m a bit conflicted. A part of me wants her to stay a baby forever and the other part wants her to be older so that I can play with her. Isn’t that ironic? I want to keep my children small enough to hold yet at the same time want them old enough to show the universe.” His bond mate hummed understandingly before glancing over at him curiously. 

“You said ‘children,’ not ‘child,’ as in ‘more than one,’” she began slowly. “Do you... do you want to have more than one?” 

“I’d never force that on you,” he said softly. “Watching that was traumatic enough without being the one actually doing anything aside from contributing TNA at the start, so trust me when I say that I’d never ask that of you if you don’t want it, and not right now, but... in the future, yes. I would.”

“Theta... the chances of a natural conception are so rare for our species anymore after prolonged use of the Looms...”

“I don’t mean we would ever actively try,” the Doctor hastened to explain. “That would just frustrate the both of us. I was thinking more along the lines of, when we feel ready, we just not do anything that would actively prevent it happening? And then if it’s meant to be it’s meant to be and if it isn’t then it isn’t.” He paused. “Does that make sense? I don’t ever want to have to engineer everything. It would feel strangely like we cheated, did something too similar to the Looms we hate so much.” 

“I get it,” Arkytior replied thoughtfully, worrying her bottom lip before shooting him a soft smile. “Yeah. I like that idea. But not for a _long time_ , okay?”

“Anything you want,” he murmured as he leaned in for a kiss. “Anything you want...” 


	3. One

“How’s it coming?” Kit asked. The Doctor grumbled as he hauled himself out of a tangle of wires and presented the broken parts. Plural. “Ooh.” 

“How are we on integrating ourselves into the local populace?” He asked. Kit shrugged, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. There were streaks of white in the soft gold now, matching his own at the temples mingling with the dark overly-long locks, and there were more wrinkles on her face matching his, but he thought she never looked more beautiful. Catching this thought across the bond she rolled her eyes.

“Susan’s going to get back from school at any minute,” she chided. 

“And why are we sending our daughter to a human school again? She’s 155. She’s got more knowledge crammed into her head due to our homeschooling than they’ll ever get in their entire lives.”

“Yes, but we can’t teach social interaction. She’s an only child who grew up on a - admittedly fantastic - spaceship and she needs to mingle with people who appear to be the same biological age. In this case that means humans at or around 16.” The Doctor’s features softened as she spoke and he sighed.

“I know. I can’t help but wonder if she wouldn’t have been better off on Gallifrey, but then I have to remind myself that she would have been shunned for being natural-born to begin with, and neither of our houses would have accepted her, and... there’s a list.”

“I add to it,” Kit admitted. The Doctor raised an eyebrow. 

“What, the list I keep in my head?”

“Sorry.” 

They’d smartly taken cover names when they arrived on Earth, adopting a common (but not too common) last name in ‘Tyler.’ The Doctor went by ‘Dr. John Tyler’ and Arkytior had converted her name from Gallifreyan into English, going by ‘Rose Tyler.’ Susan, of course, had already had an Earth-appropriate name, and merely added on the surname. 

The Doctor narrowed his eyes slightly as he gazed at his mate.

“There’s something you’re not telling me.”

“Susan has parent-teacher conferences next week. We’re supposed to go.”

“...Ah. Anything I should know already?”

“She’s doing brilliantly in maths, sciences, and literature, but apparently has an atrocious grade in history.” 

“...oh.” 

~§§~

“I’m worried about Susan, Ian,” Barbara murmured in the teacher’s lounge later that afternoon. “She’s a brilliant girl, but do you notice how she starts every answer with ‘my parents said?’”

“She was homeschooled, Barbara,” Ian countered. “It’s not a big deal. We can work with her, and talk to them at conferences.”

“I want to see the home,” Barbara decided. “Not in any sort of professional way, mind. I just want to get an idea of what we’re dealing with when she comes to the classroom.” Ian grimaced before noting the stubborn set to her jaw and sighed. 

“Oh, all right. I guess I’ll go with you then.” 

~§§~

It was hard to say who was more surprised to end up in 3400 BC Mesopotamia with unexpected company; Ian and Barbara, Kit and the Doctor, or Susan. Nevertheless, when all was said and done and the Doctor was convinced they’d somehow give their family away to Gallifrey and Kit was laughing about the whole thing, they all sat down for a cuppa in the galley. 

“You could come with us if you want, see some history, explore the universe. Discover sciences your people won’t even dream about for another millennia,” Kit suggested. The two schoolteachers pondered the offered for a few minutes before exchanging a glance and then, with a smile, nodded.

“We’d be honored,” Barbara replied sincerely. That was how they met the Daleks, and the Thals. How Susan met the love of her life and her parents had to learn to let go. The first goodbyes, and the hardest lesson that would take ages to learn. Eventually, everyone said goodbye. It was the beginning of the rest of their lives.


	4. Two

«Theta? Theta where are you?»

«In the bedroom Kit,» The Doctor replied mentally in response to an inquiry over the bond from his mate. He knew she would sense that he was distracted, but quite honestly he had more important things to be annoyed over. 

“Theta, Ben and Polly were wondering where- oh.” 

He was about the same height, his dark hair going entirely black, and it was styled like one of the Beatles’ haircuts. It was currently devoid of any silver, grey, or white, and while there were lines on his unfamiliar face Kit recognized him instantly by his deep blue eyes. No longer hazel, but the memories and personality still shone through the same. It was a testament to how long they’d been married that she instantly knew what had him so bothered. 

He was standing shirtless in front of the floor-length mirror frowning at his belly button, which despite his regeneration was still present.

“Theta, you’re not still upset about that are you?” Kit asked, successfully containing a giggle but unable to prevent her amusement from bubbling over the bond. The Doctor shot her an affronted glare and huffed slightly through his nose. “You know I love your belly button. Besides, the amount of time we spend on Earth now? Probably for the best you’ve got one if we need to blend in.” 

“I’m just... you like this new body, yes?” He asked softly, anxiety coursing over the bond. Kit blinked before stepping closer. 

“Theta, I very much like,” she whispered into his ear. He shivered. “Sometimes I think the only good thing about Gallifreyans not being dependent on external shows of affection is that what we’re really attracted to is what lies inside.” She trailed her fingers down his shoulders and he shivered again. “Everything else is superficial packaging. However, since you seem particularly nervous and it’s only our first time regenerating, I’ll humor you. I _do_ like the way you look now.” She backed away and twirled slightly. “What about me? What do you think?”

The Doctor swallowed as he gazed at his bond mate. She was wearing a sundress that showed off her legs in a classy but flirtatious way and he sighed as he took her in. 

They had both regenerated from white hair, while they now physiologically appeared to be in the human equivalent of the early forties, she was still so beautiful. Her eyes, no longer olive green, were a mischievous silver. Her skin was a little darker, more tanned, giving the appearance that she came from a region that actually had regular sunshine unlike her first body which had been as pale as any native of Ireland. Gone were the freckles he had loved to count as she slept, and her hair was no longer pastel gold but a dark sandy blonde. It fell from her shoulder in a wavy curtain and unable to resist the urge the Doctor pulled some of it back behind her ear. 

“...Stunning...“ he finally murmured distractedly. Kit rolled her eyes and pulled off her sundress and she smiled as he gasped. “Kit...”

“I’ve got a belly button now too,” she said softly. “See?” 

“I do.” He leaned forward to kiss her and gently ran his fingers over her navel, enjoying the sharp dip of the feature in question. “I really, really do. Guess I can learn to live with mine, I suppose.” 

“You’d better,” Kit laughed. “It’s not changing anytime soon.” The Doctor pulled back and regarded his mate with soft eyes.

“Oh, I sincerely hope not,” he murmured. Her bright eyes clouded slightly. “It hurt.”

“It hurt a lot,” she conceded, stepping toward him and nuzzling against his shoulder. They were even in height now; she had gained two inches to meet him at 5’8” where he had remained and he was trying his best not to be annoyed by that. “Theta?” 

“Hmm?”

“Just... I know this is unreasonable... but I always want us to change together if we can help it,” she confessed. “We can relearn one another together. And this way... we keep things even.”

“Even?” 

“We don’t have to worry as much about... outliving one another... if we stay on the same regeneration in our cycles.” His grip tightened and he let out a ragged breath into her hair as his chin rested on her shoulder. 

“I’ll try, to the best of my ability, to hold up my half of that agreement,” he whispered. 


	5. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild Trigger warning for Infertility in this chapter.

“How is it that neither of you have ever had fish and chips before?” Jo asked accusingly as the Doctor, Kit, Alistair, Benton, Yates, and of course Jo herself stopped off in a pub on their way to the latest possible alien threat. It was lunchtime, the Rover had a flat that needed to be fixed, and now was as perfect a time as any they all supposed to take a little break. It wasn’t as if the thousand-year old stones with alien writing would be going anywhere anytime soon.

The Doctor opened his mouth to reply when loud purring erupted from Kit’s throat as she bit into one of the crispy golden potato slices. He smiled at her and rolled his eyes, picking over the fish and nibbling on it experimentally before nodding and tucking into his meal with more enthusiasm. After a few moments they both became aware of absolute silence around the table aside from the purring.

“Your species... purrs when it’s happy?” Benton asked incredulously. Kit nodded. “That is... the most adorable thing I’ve ever heard.” While the Doctor scowled at this Kit nodded again, this time more cheerfully.

“He likes it when I ruffle his hair,” she said in a conspiratorial manner. “I can always get him to purr when I do that.” Alistair chuckled as the Doctor gaped at his mate. 

“That’s private!” He exclaimed. He frowned as Jo started laughing. “What!?”

“I- I just pictured the Master... purring, and I just-“ she dissolved into gasping laughs and the Doctor sighed, fixing his mate with an exasperated look. She gazed back in mischievous challenge, brushing a curtain of frizzy strawberry blonde hair away from eyes such a dark brown they were almost black, and slowly, pointedly, raised a chip to her lips and munched on it. The Doctor sighed again. Between the mini-skirts Jo had convinced her to wear and her bubbly personality this time around, he was in a constant state of resignation. He could never deny her anything in his current body, it seemed. 

~§§~

“You’re a real pain sometimes, you know that?” The Doctor panted. Kit merely raised an eyebrow as she swung her foot at him and he backpedaled. They had taken up Venusian Aikido late in their past incarnations and had found both a talent and a passion for it in their current ones, so they made a point of sparring at least once a day if at all possible on the mat in their gymnasium. The Doctor usually won, but Kit was in a competitive mood this evening and wasn’t giving an inch. 

He huffed as she pinned him to the floor, hooking one of his ankles with hers and rolling them so that she was underneath him. To counter, Kit broke free and scooted across the floor before sprinting into a crouch. 

“How so?” She taunted. 

“Oh, I think you know perfectly well. And to make matters worse, you use it to your advantage.” 

“And what advantage would that be?”

“Distracting me!” He laughed as she swept in and knocked him off his feet, lightly placing her foot in the center of his chest. She smirked and he hook his head ever so slightly in amusement. 

It was later that evening, after they’d locked up the lab and retired properly to the TARDIS for the night, that the Doctor allowed himself to really think about what he’d been mulling over that day. He was lounging on their bed with Susan’s letter and wedding invitation on his lap as he reread the contents feeling... well... melancholy wasn’t the right word. This went somehow beyond that, a general deep pervasive longing that had slowly spread without his being aware of it. 

“Brax offered us a lift,” Kit called from the doorway of their en-suite. He glanced over to see her leaning against it as she braided her hair for the evening. “We don’t have to miss Susan’s wedding.” 

“I want a baby,” he said abruptly, then winced. That hadn’t been how he’d wanted to broach the topic. Kit was frozen where she stood, eyes large and startled. 

“...What?” She whispered.

“I want to have another baby with you,” he amended, slowly standing up and walking over to her so that he could look down into her shell-shocked face. “Only if you want to, of course, and I know the statistics for conception after the looms all but destroyed the chances of natural- look, the point is, I’d like to start trying.”

“Where’d this come from all of a sudden?” Kit asked, raising an eyebrow. She bit her lip, a nervous tic that had persevered through two regenerations and three bodies, and his hand came up to ruffle the hair at the back of his head - _his_ nervous tic that had survived two regenerations and three bodies as well. 

“To be honest, I’ve wanted this since they put Susan in my arms that day in the hospital,” he murmured quietly. “But you weren’t ready and I didn’t want to push you. I still don’t. But I feel I should tell you my feelings on the matter. I... I think it’s being on Earth. They have such short lives. Everywhere we go, their are mothers and fathers and children who are loved. And being surrounded by that, by all of those families...”

“It makes you want to have one of your own,” Kit finished with a sad smile. The Doctor nodded. “I was so scared when we had Susan, Theta. I...” she bit her lip again and then tapped her temple, their signal for communicating solely through the bond, and he nodded, bracing himself, as she gathered her memories and deposited them on his metaphorical mental doorstep like a package through the mail. He opened it.

_Their wedding night, under the silver cadonwood tree. How the timelines, their timelines, had burned so brightly. Waking up the next morning and feeling that something had changed, but not quite knowing what. Like an itch in the back of the mind. Then, as the weeks drew on, the increasing sense of something off. About her own person. Her body acting in ways it wasn’t supposed to. Becoming suspicious when a self-analysis of bodily functions revealed nutrients from her meals and energy going somewhere else. The sheer, raw terror when the baby moved for the first time in the womb and finally confirmed what she’d suspected (while Gallifreyans took 4 months longer to develop than humans did the quickening occurred much sooner)._

_Looking up the general laws about reproduction and finding a clause for Time Lords in the charter on looms after the cure of Pythia’s curse had been found stating that, in order to create a perfect society, all reproduction would be accomplished and regulated through the looms and that any natural conception was to be terminated before the birth. Running to his shop in the middle of the morning in a panic and crying as he held her, as he tried to comfort her but didn’t truly know how because nothing like this had happened on their planet for several millennia._

_The stress of having to pack to go that last week on Gallifrey, of running constant diagnostics on the baby trying to make sure it was all right and becoming petrified when she realized she wasn’t giving it enough sustenance or rest. The subsequent added stress of trying to sneak extra portions of food from the kitchens and cat naps every night during the quiet hours when she was allowed to be left alone. That final harrowing run to the TARDIS, and the relief and safety of the ship watching out for them._

_Then, as the weeks turned to months, the mounting terror of growing another living thing inside of her and not having any idea what was going on during it. The long months, the aches and pains, the hormones and morning sickness and increasing difficulty of mobility. The end of the memories exploded with pain the likes of which the Doctor had never felt before before fading to white._

“You really can’t find anything good to counteract the bad?” The Doctor asked in a small voice. 

“I can,” Kit murmured. “First kick, first telepathic contact, learning the gender and looking for names, holding her for the first time... you. You just- just being you. But there’s just one tiny problem, Theta. And you know what it is.”

“You think I don’t understand what it is you went through,” he sighed. “You appreciate that I tried, but I never can. But, Kit. I do. Oh, I do. I was terrified, just as much as you. Granted I’ll never know what it is to carry the child within me, but I was just as frightened. See.”

_The raw insurmountable terror of being told he had helped create a new life that was resting inside the love of his lives. Of the daunting task of living up to that, of protecting the both of them. The fear of being caught, and losing their child. The mad run through Arcadia with death itself on their heels. Flying off into the unknown, not knowing where they were going or why. Day by day, feeling useless because there was only so much he could do to help with the pregnancy and it didn’t feel like enough. Waking up in cold sweats in the middle of the night after having nightmares of the both of them dying in childbirth, and having to live with that for the rest of his lives._

_Pain, when she winced in discomfort or threw up in the mornings. Guilt, that he had done this to her. The mood swings, unpredictable and painful for the both of them. Whatever injury he sustained as she held his hand during the birth was nothing compared to the raw and indefinable emotion surging through his being at that moment._

“I was right there with you,” the Doctor said softly. “Arkytior. I’m not asking you to make a decision right now. But, please, tell me one way or the other?”

“I will.”

~§§~

“Yes.” 

As it so happened, they didn’t broach the subject until six months and five attacks by the Master later. The timing was rather terrible as well; he was getting ready to brief the council in Geneva. He fumbled with his bowtie, dropping it onto the floor, and simply stared at her for a good few minutes without saying anything.

“...Sorry, what?”

“Yes,” Kit whispered as she picked up the tie and began working it around his neck. “I want to start trying.” 

“Kit.”

It’s several years later, when they’re both emotionally broken and Kit’s body has kept refusing to accept any fertilized eggs, that they’re spent enough to finally utter the words that cause them almost as much if not more so agonizing deliberation than deciding to try had been.

_I think it’s time we stop._


	6. Four

“I don’t WANT her on our ship, Theta!” Kit exclaimed angrily, pacing. On the Doctor’s part, he smartly remained in the center of their bed still as a statue with his mouth glued shut. He’d never seen his mate so angry before and now was not the time to test her seemingly-infinite patience with his inability to refrain from snappy quips and sarcastic one-liners. She looked about ready to murder someone with her bare hands, and since she was yelling at _him_ it was a safe bet he was somewhere on the list of people she’d be willing to strangle Bond or no. 

“The- the White Guardian sort of forced her on us,” he stammered quietly when it appeared she was expecting an answer. Kit, who this time around was barely 5’1” and skinny as a twig, swung around to glare at him with eerily-pale blue eyes. Her large, fluffy gold hair looked like a proper untamed lion’s mane at present and the Doctor winced, internally shrinking into himself despite maintaining the outward appearance of absolute serenity. 

“So I should be taking it up with him then.” She nodded. “Great. What’s his number? I’m going to give him a call.”

“You’re very violent this regeneration,” the Doctor remarked before his brain could catch up with his mouth. Kit’s nostrils flared and all 6’4” scarf-bedecked teeth and curls let out an involuntary whimper. “Not- not that there’s anything wrong with that. Uh. Kit. Why- why are you so upset that she’s here?”

“ _Because she’s my cousin! If she didn’t hunt me before we left, she stood by and watched it happen!_ ” Tears started streaking down Arkytior’s face and the Doctor was across the room in milliseconds crushing her into his body. “They all turned on me because I wasn’t like them... then they disowned me...” The Doctor blinked. While the former had been old news, the latter was something he hadn’t been aware of. Even his own House still paid lip service to the fact that he belonged to them (mostly because he had stopped the destruction of Gallifrey and been elected President for a very brief period of time, something he was actively running from at present).

“Why didn’t you tell me they disowned you?” He asked. 

“Because it was about two weeks after we left, and we had bigger things to worry about,” she sniffled. “And I dealt with it, and got over it, and put it behind me. And now she’s here and I have to deal with it all over again, because she thinks she has the right to dictate how things are supposed to happen in _our_ home. I don’t... I don’t _want_ her here, Theta. I just- I don’t- I can’t- please. Get rid of her, or put her in her place. But I can’t even be in the same room with her right now.”

“I’ll work something out,” the Doctor murmured. His confusion at his mate’s reaction had been replaced by worry. She was acting all right, but she wasn’t. And the fact that she was trying to hide that from him set alarm bells ringing louder than the TARDIS’ Cloisters. 

Neither of them had been particularly forward about what went on in their Houses before the Academy, or what happened when they went home for the holidays. There had been a general understanding that it was old news and neither needed to bring it up because it would just cause more pain. However, there was a slight problem. That pain was now existing in their home, a place where they both should have felt safe to be themselves. 

Unwilling to let this continue, the Doctor left to go find Romana and lay down some very strict non-negotiable rules. 

It wasn’t a perfect fix, and later that evening the Doctor made sure to tell her all about the growing pains he’d experienced with his own House before asking to her about hers. He was horrified for her at the abandonment, the cold dictating. The end result was that Kit was able to work with Romana on a cold, frosty level that went a mutual both ways. 

The fact of the matter was that Romana simply didn’t understand. She didn’t understand the scarf-clad gentle giant with a forgetful, absent mind or his spitfire of a wife sho wore a similar scarf far too long for her. She stated on more than one occasion that there was no conceivable way the two of them were cousins. Kit responded by saying the same thing. 

It wasn’t until after Romana regenerated that the Doctor felt he could breathe easily again, really. Her personality had softened, her perspective on things different. And while she and Kit never really saw eye to eye, they could at least be civil. Romana and the Doctor became quite good friends, really. And even if she wasn’t willing to admit it, Kit was sad to see her leave too. 


	7. Five

The Doctor blinked, groaning, as he slowly came back to the world of the living. It was rare that he slept for as long as he had the night prior - extracurricular activities involving sentient Squash courts really were exhausting if you hadn’t slept the week before - and sighing softly he rolled toward his bond mate’s side of the bed only to find that the mattress was cool. He frowned at that. They always made sure to sync their sleep schedules even if they were separated so that when they did their long rests they could snuggle together as they had trouble getting proper, uninterrupted sleep when they were apart. The fact that Arkytior had gotten up before him and then left the bed indicated that something was just a tad bit off. 

Suddenly much more awake than he had been less than a minute ago, the Doctor sprang for his bathrobe hanging off of the end of the loveseat and decided he was decent enough with a tee shirt and long sleep pants on to go as is to wander the TARDIS. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t sat through breakfast before in less thinking he was safe only to have Nyssa and Tegan walk in on him scrambling to throw the tea towels on over his briefs or anything, oh no. He grimaced as the mental image flitted across his mind only to realize that he'd projected the thought to his spouse and that _she_ was the one calling the visual forth. 

"Don't act like you didn't find that validating," Arkytior grumbled good-naturedly in her current body's soft Irish lilt as he walked into the kitchen feigning indifference. She smirked at him, waving the spatula for the blueberry pancakes at his general person, and then turned back to the griddle.

"Mm, good morning to you too," The Doctor purred, brushing a lock of her long, straight platinum hair away from her startling periwinkle eyes and hugging her from behind to press a kiss to her shoulder. She purred in response but squirmed when he let his hands draw across her stomach and he drew back, confused.

"Bare midriff," she muttered with an eye roll even though the spattering of freckles over her nose seemed to become more prominent as she blushed. You know full well I'm ticklish." 

“Never seemed to bother you before,” he growled playfully as he lightly poked her in the side but backed a little farther away. 

“Yeah, well, Nyssa popped out to rouse Tegan and Adric but I wasn’t exactly making all this by myself. Don’t want them walking back in to you snogging me into the counter now do we?” It was _his_ turn to blush a bright red.

“...Right,” he agreed, shooting her a grateful look. While she was still outwardly affectionate as ever he was a bit more shy of showing public affection, and the fact that she was so considerate of that warmed his hearts every single time. 

Her new persona, as ever, had taken some getting used to, and the Doctor was still upset with Adric over that. 

The boy had been insistent that he’d known how to stop the ship, and had gone over to it against their better judgement. Kit had followed him, shielding him with her body as the TARDIS materialized around them by locking on to their signal while the ship blew up, and she’d caught a piece of shrapnel in her left heart. The Doctor had been livid, sitting Adric down for a long talk that added up to Adric complaining he wasn’t being very nice and the Doctor explaining that he didn’t have to be nice, because he was Adric’s guardian rather than his friend. 

...That hadn’t gone over too well, but Kit, once she’d recovered, fully supported him and the look she shot the boy was enough to keep him in fear for being grounded for eternity. 

Thinking back on that, the Doctor sighed softly and pressed a kiss into her hair. He’d almost lost her. 

~§~

“Theta, can I talk to you for a moment?” Arkytior asked quietly. The Doctor nodded, glancing at their companions worriedly, before making an executive decision. 

“Tegan, Nyssa, could you show Turlough the main attractions please? The TARDIS will have prepared a room for him as well if you could help him find the corridor for the bedrooms. I need to have a private conversation with Kit.” 

“Yeah, sure,” Tegan said with a shrug. Neither woman looked particularly surprised by this turn of events; it was more than common practice for the couple to retire for the evening after a long and/or trying adventure and leave them to their own devices. And, as per usual, Adric had already scampered off to his bedroom to work on some new problem he’d discovered. Much like normal family members acted when on a large group holiday, really. The Australian got up from leaning against the console to walk into the rest of the ship. “Come on, Turlough. Nyssa and I have been watching a late 20th century show called _All Creatures Great And Small_ and we can’t wait to get back to it.”

“Rose fancies Tristan,” Nyssa needled good-naturedly. 

“Do not!” Arkytior protested, her cheeks blushing ever so slightly in embarrassment. The Doctor rolled his eyes and hid a smile as Turlough glanced between the two pairs, shrugged, and followed after the established companions. 

“Alone at last,” the Time Lord whispered in his bond mate’s ear as he ran cool fingers down her arm. She shivered at his breath and touch and he stilled his movements, remembering there was a more serious reason she had wanted to have some ‘them time’ as Tegan called it. “What’s up?” 

“I haven’t been feeling well lately...” Arkytior began as she turned in his arms to face him. The Doctor felt a split moment of fear before realizing that, instead of resignation or pain across their bond, all he could feel was a kind of nervous excitement. She hummed approvingly as he relaxed and took each of his hands in hers, slowly moving them as she spoke so that when the sentence ended his fingers and palms were splayed across her stomach. “Do you remember, all those centuries ago, when we decided that we would let things progress as they would and if I conceived it was meant to be?”

He swallowed several times as his wide blue gaze sparked with hope and dropped down to stare with almost heartsbreaking longing at her abdomen. When he glanced back up at her face his eyes were full of tears.

“Are you...?”

“Mmhmm.” 

“Oh, Kit...” The Doctor choked down a happy sob as he abruptly crouched in front of Arkytior, pulling her shirt up so that he could pepper a multitude of kisses all across the surface before straightening just as suddenly and sweeping her off her feet to dance them about the console laughing with unbridled happiness. Arkytior laughed right along with him before wincing, her stomach churning uncomfortably close to spewing its contents as the world spun.

“Theta, Theta! Stop. Try really, _really_ hard to stand still right now because carrying your baby is giving me some terrible vertigo and I honestly _do not_ want to throw up right in your face,” she begged. He skidded to a halt, expression stunned and just a bit horrified at the prospect, before he quickly lowered her back to the floor and crushed her in a tight, loving hug. “Oof! Thank you...” 

“Sorry darling,” he apologized into her neck. “It’s just been so long since I last had to worry about that, and-”

“No I get it, you got caught up in the moment,” Arkytior giggled. She felt him relax and projected her joy across their bond, gratified when it was returned back to her in like kind mixed with trepidation and a bit of onset shock. Her grip tightened around his waist as his knees went weak. “Whoa there.”

“I’m going to be a father again,” he mumbled dazedly, and she sighed in fond exasperation as she moved toward the hall and kissed the TARDIS wall when the door of their bedroom appeared directly beside them. “We’re having another baby...” Arkytior bit her lip, debating whether she should tell him or not, before shrugging. 

Well, he was already in a state of shock. Better now than later.

“Susan’s pregnant,” she announced bluntly. The Doctor’s legs gave out entirely and he went crashing to the floor. 

“She’s _what!?_ ” 

“Hey grandad,” Arkytior said sweetly as she knelt back on her heels and brushed his bangs out of his eyes. He let out a soft, overwhelmed whimper and faceplanted right into the carpet. 

"We're having a baby," he mumbled before crossing his arms in front of him and resting his chin on them. Arkytior mirrored the pose so that they were lying on the floor with their noses touching. "We're having a baby and our baby girl is having a baby of her own..."

"Brax is going to freak when he gets the Christmas card this year," she retorted cheekily. The Doctor rolled his eyes but a slow, ecstatic smile was spreading across his face. She pushed off the carpet and stood with a stretch, walking toward the en-suite and pulling her shirt off as she did so. "Right, well I want a soak after the day I've had and you're more than welcome to join me if you're still sore from being strapped into that machine of Mawdryn’s. After that I think we should get some rest, and tomorrow I want to have a word with Turlough."

"You know why he's here don't you?" The Doctor asked as he fumbled to remain upright whilst arguing with the laces of a shoe. The sound of running water came from the bathroom as Arkytior poked her head out, putting her long hair up into a messy bun and shrugging.

"Yep. Why do you think I want to have a chat with him?"

"Ah."

"You kinda projected earlier." Finally free of his shoes, the Doctor dropped his slightly singed jumper in the hamper and began working on the cuffs of his oxford as he walked to his sink. There was a soft moan of pleasure as his bond mate slid into the perfectly-warmed water and he laughed as he turned around to see that she was almost lost in a sea of foam in the massive sunken tub.

"Do you think that there is such a thing as too many bubbles?" He asked teasingly, stepping out of his pants on his way over. She pretended to consider for a few moments before disappearing entirely in the mass of white fluff.

"Nah." He slipped into the water and hummed as the warmth soaked into his stiff and strained muscles, moving to the edge and leaning back with his head on the rim. 

"Did Susan say how far along she was?" He murmured tiredly. The water sloshed slightly as Arkytior shifted to recline beside him and brushed her toes across the top of his foot, smirking when he shuddered and glared at her as she knew full well he was more ticklish in his current incarnation than previous ones.

"Mm. About three months. She mentioned something about the refugee camp they were working in having a high ratio for miscarriages prior to that marker. I felt the need to remind her that as the baby is half Gallifreyan and she herself is Gallifreyan the chances of that happening are astoundingly low."

"And how far along are you?" The Doctor asked, trailing his fingers across her abdomen and pressing a kiss to her damp neck. She purred at his touch and smiled. 

"I knew what I was looking for this time around so it's only been about a month, just long enough to start presenting some energy deficits and such," she replied with a smile. She then shrugged. "Technically, I think I was aware the moment I conceived at least on a subconscious level, but..." His ears turned bright red at the implication and he coughed before ducking entirely under the bubbles and the water for a few moments under the guise of wetting his hair down. 

~§§~

The next morning Arkytior found Turlough wandering around the library. She smiled at him in an almost predatory way and he suppressed a shudder at that, dutifully following her as she showed him a few things here and there that he hadn’t gotten around to on the tour the previous night. 

“Right, I want to show you something really, _really_ cool now, okay?” She said brightly. He shrugged, wanting to go about finding a way to sabotage the ship or something, but the moment they stopped in front of a pair of rose-tinted white doors and entered into a rose-tinted white room that smelled of roses he got the impression that something was wrong. Arkytior closed the doors and it felt as if everything had just... faded away.

“Uh, What is this place?” He asked uneasily. Arkytior’s smile faded as she turned around and he swallowed. She dropped down to the floor cross-legged and gestured to the space in front of her.

“Sit.” When he had done so she continued. “This is the Zero Room. The Doctor accidentally ejected it about three months ago but I had the TARDIS rebuild it. Interesting thing about this room, it’s cut off from all external telepathic signals. Every. Single. One.” The predatory gleam was back in her eye. “Now, if it were up to my bond mate he’d simply let you wander about and wait for you to appeal to your better nature on your own. But me? I can’t do that. I have a family to protect and quite honestly, if something were to happen to that family I _really_ don’t want to know what he’d do to you.”

“What do you mean?” 

“Let’s talk about the Black Guardian, seeing as he can’t hear us.” Turlough swallowed. 

“I- I don’t-”

“What has he told you about us?” Arkytior’s periwinkle eyes, which he had thought to be quite human in their greyish-blue color, suddenly seemed to have a lot more purple in them now that they weren’t affected by shadows and conflicting flickering light sources from a spaceship on half-power. And suddenly she was so very alien because there were centuries upon centuries of memories in those eyes.

“Not much,” he admitted. “He just wanted me to get rid of you. The pair of you.” He hung his head in shame. “Not sure which is worse: the fact that I agreed to it because I’m selfish, or the fact that I’m too much of a coward to see it through.”

“It takes strength to spare a life and humility to admit one’s faults,” the Time Lady said quietly. She cocked her head slightly to the side before continuing. “I’m with child, by the way. And the Doctor and I just learned that our eldest daughter is expecting a little one of her own. You see, nothing is ever as it seems.”

“Meaning?” Turlough asked warily. Arkytior shrugged, her demeanor a little too casual to be considered natural. 

“I’m not a helpless flower that needs a protector, Turlough. I’m a wolf. I’m loyal and fierce and quick to protect my pack. Likewise, I may be able to get the Doctor purring if I ruffle his hair just right but he’s no dainty house cat. He’s a lion. Bold and protective and always nearby in case the pride is threatened. Neither of us are tame. But we’re good. And, you know what? I think there’s a tiger waiting inside of you.”

“What do you... I don’t understand.”

“Tigers are solitary. They tend to be aloof, but they’re incredibly clever and will fight for what matters to them whether that be territory or kin.” She eyed him speculatively. “I wonder just what will bring it out. Until then, just know that you’ll have to make a choice. If you decide to obey the Black Guardian there isn’t much we can do about it. But if you decide to stand up to him we’ll be there to protect you. We’ll take a quiet afternoon, I think. Nyssa and Tegan are still exhausted after what happened on that ship. You can explore all you want. The ship is sentient and if you get lost she’ll lead you back to the console room.”

With that, Arkytior stood and began walking toward the doors.

“Wait!” Turlough called, scrambling to his feet and darting after her. “Why did you tell me all of this? Why did you even let me on board your ship if you knew?”

“I’m with child,” she repeated simply as she gently stroked her abdomen. His eyes grew wide with horror as he realized what the Black Guardian had been asking him to do. “Yes. He’s a real nice piece of work, isn’t he? But that’s why I told you, to let you know that the both of us really do wish you all the best in life but that if you hurt our baby we will not hesitate to end you. As for why we let you on board? You seemed so lonely and frustrated on Earth, and we both know what that feels like. To be exiled and trapped to the planet Earth is to live an incredibly dull life having to sit through humans rediscover something your people invented eons ago and having to pretend to be stunned.”

“So- so what do you want me to do here, then?” Turlough asked, swallowing. Finally, Arkytior gave him a genuine smile and it made him unconsciously relax the entirety of his tense body with the warmth it exuded. 

“Decide for yourself, Turlough. We’ll act like we’re none the wiser and we’ll say nothing to either Tegan nor Nyssa. Just... think long and hard about it before you do anything too rash, yeah?”

“...Yeah.” 

She turned, opening the doors to the Zero Room, and Turlough paled when he saw the Doctor pacing outside. As soon as she stepped past the threshold he visibly relaxed and swept her up for a desperate hug. 

“Blocks all telepathic signals...” Turlough whispered to himself as the two Time Lords brushed their temples together. He finally got it. 

~§§~

**_Thirteen Months Later..._**

“She looks just like you,” Brax commented distractedly as he reached over to tap his newest niece on the nose when she cooed up at him from her cot. 

“I don’t think so,” the Doctor murmured with a smile. Braxiatel straightened to look at his younger brother incredulously only for the both of them to turn toward the door of the nursery at the soft laugh that comment illicited. Arkytior stepped in, holding a soft bundle, and rolled her eyes. 

“He only says that to get a reaction,” she sighed exasperatedly. “He knows full well Jenny looks like a carbon copy right down to the bone structure.”

“Hmm. And who is this?” Brax asked, staring wide-eyed at the barely-awake baby in his sister-in-law’s arms. Her gaze softened even as she pretended to be surprised by the infant. 

“Who, this? Oh, this is Alex Campbell.”

“Kit, if you’re done teasing Brax I’d love to hold my grandson,” the Doctor whined. 

“I stole him from Susan for a few minutes, she doesn’t want to let him out of her sight just yet,” Arkytior whispered conspiratorially to the room in general as Brax stuttered and the Doctor came over to peer over her shoulder at the baby trying to grab one of his fingers. 

“Doctor? Rose?” Adric called. They both sighed, and suddenly Brax was being handed his grand-nephew. 

“Hold him until Susan gets here, okay?” Arkytior asked. “We need to go and find out what our companions want.”

“I still can’t believe there’s five of them,” the Doctor grumbled.

“Six, if you count Erimem’s cat.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“Turlough and his brother Malkon, Adric, Peri, Erimem, and her cat Antranak.” 

“I think you mean ‘creature from Hell.’”

“Just because he doesn’t like _you_ doesn’t mean he isn’t a _darling_ to me...” 

Their voices faded as they got further down the hall and Brax shook his head, amused. 

“Those are your _parents_ ,” he said exasperatedly to his niece as she squirmed in her crib. “And those are your _grandparents_ ,” he added unnecessarily to his grand-nephew as the boy sucked on his finger. “Not quite There in the head, I think. Oh, they’re both brilliant. But they’re also a bit batty if you ask me.”


	8. Six

It had been a regular, quiet afternoon. Kit had been reading in a park in Queens in NYC. The year was 1970, and the spring air was decent. 

Quiet being the operative word...

“Run, Kit! Run!” She looked up from her book, her pixie-cut blazing ginger hair giving the appearance of a firecracker going off as jade green eyes tracked her mate as he ran across the street with a colorful monstrosity in his arms and a horde of angry theatre performers on his heels. 

Snapping the book closed with a sigh, she ran after her husband. 

“What did you _do!?_ ” She asked. He held up the coat and she groaned. “No, not again.” 

“Well, since my other one mysteriously got bleached in the laundry I’ve been stuck with this blue one,” he complained. “But this-“ he hefted the coat for emphasis- “this is _perfect._ Don’t you think?”

“No, I don’t think. Why? Just... why?” 

“Give us back our prop!” Someone shouted. Kit turned to gape at the Doctor with wide eyes as she mentally checked the date and location. 

“You _didn’t._ Theta, please tell me you didn’t.”

“If you’re referring to my stealing the coat of many colors from the opening performance of _Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat,_ you would in fact be correct,” he said smugly, not breaking stride. Kit groaned and lengthened her own to match his. She might have been 5’7”, but he was 6’0” and most of that was leg. 

“But-“

“Look, don’t _worry._ They have a backup!” 

“That thing is _not_ coming into our bedroom,” she swore. 

“And I say it does.”

“And _I_ say that you’d better get comfy with the couch in the library then.”

“Empty threat. I know full well you can’t fall asleep without me, just like I can’t fall asleep without you.”

“Okay, fine,” Kit huffed. “Just- _please_ don’t try and influence Jenny’s fashion tastes. She’s almost ready to start off on her own, the last thing I want is for her to try and have people take her seriously while she’s wearing a stolen ball gown from 18th century France with the huge hoop skirts.” 

“Oh, yea of little faith,” the Doctor scoffed. “Bustles are more fashionable.”

“...No...” 


	9. Seven

“I worry about that girl,” the Doctor muttered, rolling the r’s on every word with his Scottish brogue and leaning slightly on the handle of his umbrella. Kit rolled her eyes and patted him on the arm as they watched Ace run down the street chasing an Ice Warrior with a fire extinguisher.

“Shall I go find the adoption forms then?” She asked sweetly, tucking a strand of dark dirty blonde hair behind an ear and away from her mischievous blue eyes. He huffed and then made several sounds of protest when she stole his hat and dropped it on her own head, but made no move to retrieve it. 

“I hardly think that would be a prudent course of action,” he countered. 

“Nah. Know what is, though?”

“What?”

“Telling Ace _why_ Fenric wanted her. We told her she was one of his wolves, but we never told her _why_.”

“Yes, _that_ will be a fun conversation,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “Besides, it’s over now. What’s left to discuss?”

“...Theta, you know how I was joking around when I said I was your social interaction support wife? I was only half kidding.”

“Hey!” 

~§§~

“Am I really that bad with people this time around?” 

“Hm?”

“Earlier, you mentioned...” 

“Oh, no sweetie, you’re not.” The Doctor appeared unconvinced so Kit sighed and engulfed him in a tight hug. She was taller than him - by one inch, but she wasn’t letting him forget it any time soon - and thus he had an easier time burying his face into her neck, where he breathed in her scent and let it calm him. “I know you’ve always had a hard time understanding people, but sometimes because I’m so used to it I forget. Okay? That’s all. I didn’t mean anything by it, and I wouldn’t have said it if I’d remembered it was a sore point. You’re no more bad with people than you were in any other body, and no more good with them either. You’re doing fine.”

“You understand them better,” he sighed, the words muffled by her hair. 

“Well, yeah. I’m a people person. I love meeting new people and interacting with them. It refreshes me. But you don’t. You like knowing a few close people and having your alone time when you need it. I get that too. You don’t have to pretend you’re comfortable with all the crowds.” 

“No?” He asked, pulling away to look into her face.

“No. I’ve only ever wanted for you to be yourself.” Kit tapped him lightly on the nose and smiled. He flashed a tentative one back. “Leave the people to me, and try and pick something up through bond osmosis yeah?” The smile became wide and genuine; ‘bond osmosis’ was their own personal term. 

“Want to play chess?” The Doctor asked hopefully. 

“Only if I get to be queen.” 

“Oh, as it should be,” he murmured, kissing her deeply. They were interrupted by Ace exclaiming disgustedly from the doorway to the library as she walked past and pulled away from one another, smiling, as they rested their foreheads together.


	10. Eight

Kit blinked as she stepped into the TARDIS, gently-waving golden hair falling down her back in a shimmering curtain as it caught the light from the gothic interior. Friendly turquoise eyes regarded the newest companion with interest as she deposited her bag in her seat by the fireplace and walked over.

“Hello.” Charley jumped at the voice, turning abruptly to see the speaker and frowning at the long red formal evening gown the other woman was wearing. 

“Hi. Who are you?” 

“Oh, I’m Kit. But you can call me Rose,” came the cheerful Welsh-accented reply as Kit extended her hand. “And you?”

“Charlotte. Charlotte Pollard. My friends call me Charley. Look, I don’t mean to be rude and all, but how did you get in here?” Charley’s eyes flickered over to the door and she huffed a sigh. “Did the Doctor pick you up like a stray? He has a habit of that, I’m afraid. Nice party, was it?” Kit nodded, arching an eyebrow ever so slightly as a suspicion formed in her mind. 

The Doctor had been traveling on his own when he’d picked up Charley, having dropped Kit off to help poor Alistair with their daughter while Doris was doing poorly with pneumonia, and while he’d meant to be back as soon as possible the TARDIS had balked at the idea of letting Charley on board. So, while it had been only a few weeks for Kit, it had been around two months for the Doctor. And knowing him, he’d neglected to mention one very crucial fact. As he always did. 

“The party was very nice,” Kit said smoothly, walking toward the chair the Doctor often reclined in and running her fingers lovingly over the backrest. She hid a smirk as Charley stiffened slightly. “My friend is a wonderful dancer, old friend of course, wonderful elder gentleman. Poor man has been going spare trying to keep the house with his wife bedridden. Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to be my partner this evening. The Doctor had to play the dashing Byronic hero and step in. Stupendous footwork he’s got.” 

“Yes...” Charley cleared her throat uncomfortably and Kit knew her suspicions were correct. The girl had a crush. Not her fault, but Kit needed to make it clear that she and the Doctor were happily committed before the poor woman had a chance to properly recognize what those feelings were only to be disappointed later. 

Kit needn’t have worried about breaking the news gently; the sight of her in a scarlet dress and the way the skirt moved with the dance, whispering across the floor, had put her husband in a very flirty mood. Hence the reason she’d worn the dress. But the moment he was through the doors he was wrapping his arms around his mate from behind and kissing her soundly on the temple, dousing the bond with how much he’d missed her and unintentionally sending her several visuals of accidentally making two cups of tea for a nightly cuddle in the library that wouldn’t be happening or the way he sometimes caught himself daydreaming about her signature smile - worn on all of her faces mind.

“Aww, you missed me too,” the Doctor purred as Kit showered him with exasperated affection back. 

“We have an audience, dear,” Kit said with a smile. 

Charley was gaping at them from across the console. 

“But- but- but you-“

“Ah introductions!” The Doctor exclaimed, springing nimbly away and priming the TARDIS to move into the Vortex. “Charley Pollard, meet my blushing bride Arkytior. Or, as you may call her, Rose.” 

“You’re _married!?_ ” Charley stuttered, eyeing the Doctor up and down in disbelief. “What, _you?_ ” His head came up, clearly affronted.

“Yes, _me._ Why is that such a difficult concept for everyone to grasp?” 

“Probably because you forget to tell people, Theta,” Kit teased. He opened his mouth and then closed it, rolling his eyes and sighing. 

“I can just tell the two of you are going to be trouble for me when you get on. I just can.”

“What do you think, Charley? Beach or spa?” Kit asked. The girl blinked, then smirked as the Doctor groaned. 

“Oh, spa please,” she said eagerly. 

“Spa it is then. Maybe we’ll do a resort, actually. That way you get a double package of a beach _and_ a spa.”

“Or a spa _on_ the beach?”

“I’m definitely going to like her,” Kit announced, already moving to pilot them to just such a place. Charley giggled as the Doctor slunk off to his chair and sank into it with a resigned sigh.

“I _know_ I’m definitely going to like _you_.” 

~§§~

“When I said spa beach, that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be anything for you to do,” Kit purred. The Doctor smiled a soft, sheepish smile as he lovingly massaged the knots out of his mate’s shoulders in their master suite. They had a clear view of the water, the balcony open and the curtains billowing, and the TARDIS was sitting happily in the corner behind the loveseat. 

“Mm...”

“Have you told Charley yet?”

“About what?”

“Theta...”

“No, I haven’t told her she was supposed to die yet,” he sighed. “How do you even start a conversation off like that, anyway?”

“It’s better than someone else telling her.”

“I know, I know. It’s just- she had such a good time today. Why can’t she have more days like today before she hears the bad news?” He hedged, working on a particularly stubborn knot. Kit turned slightly to look at him, resting a hand on his leg and frowning at the tension in the muscles there.

“Okay. First off, when you get done with me you’re getting a massage too. This entire situation has got you wound tighter than a primed spring. Second, because she’ll still be sad when you tell her. It’s like ripping the band-aid off slowly, causing more pain, than if you did it quick and sharp. And, hey. All the good times? That’s going out to get an ice cream because she scraped her knee in the first place. Got it?” 

“Yes ma’am,” the Doctor murmured resignedly. “Do you think she’ll forgive me?”

“The sooner you tell her, the better your chances.” Kit flipped over from lying on her stomach to lying on her back and stared up at him, hooking her ankles around his. “Now. I haven’t seen my husband in three weeks. He hasn’t seen me in two months. What are we supposed to do about this situation?” The Doctor’s gaze zeroed in on her lips as she pointedly licked them, batting her eyelashes seductively. 

“You... tell... me,” he murmured distractedly, suddenly very aware that she was clad only in her knickers while he’d been massaging her. 

Satisfied that she had him right where she wanted him, Kit flashed him her signature smile and then squirmed out from underneath him to put on a fluffy robe and grab a book off the nightstand, which she tossed to him and he fumbled to catch. 

“Missed our nightly reading cuddle,” she said when he gaped at her. 

“This is because I didn’t tell her I was married, or who you were, isn’t it?” The Doctor grumbled, pouting, which was an expression that Kit laughed at before she settled back on the bed and squarely on top of him to rest her head in the middle of his chest, comforted by the thundering double-thrum of his heartsbeat. He hummed and nuzzled at her hair.


	11. Eight At War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING FOR MISCARRIAGE

_“No More.”_

_“Hmm?”_

_“No More,” Kit repeated numbly. The Doctor slowly raised his head to look over at her. She had curled in on herself, clutching at the rounded swell of her belly, tears streaming down her face and leaving clear tracks in an otherwise ash-stained visage._

_Her new face was all hard lines, her sky eyes empty as she gazed at the wreckage of the ship before them. Long, limp black hair hung from her head like a mourning veil and her skin was pale as death. The Doctor sucked in a sharp breath at the brokenness in her voice and shifted closer to her._

_“Kit...” he choked at the mirrored brokenness in his own voice and trailed off as he sought to comfort his mate, unthinkingly placing his hand on her belly as he was wont to do while she was expecting. She flinched at his touch and he drew his hand back as if he’d been burned, sobs wracking his body as he bowed in the soot and wept._

_They had landed on what was supposed to be a peaceful planet seeking to bring relief aid to a group of refugees displaced by the Time War, unaware that they were under attack. Instead of stepping out into a the market district of a protective compound they had stepped out into a mass grave, the civilians burned husks from Dalek fire. They had then turned at just the wrong moment to be greeted by the shrill cry of a Dalek patrol._

_The Doctor had been able to dodge, but Kit was far less mobile at the moment and had caught the blast a glancing blow on her shoulder. The damage was so extensive that she had begun to Regenerate, and the explosion of her cells catching fire had begun killing their baby. He had crawled through the mud and soot to place his hands on her belly, desperately giving up one of his own lives in the hopes that it would be enough for their child to live._

_It hadn’t. The resulting explosion of both their regenerative energies had rendered the Daleks around them into dust leaving them alone, protected by the eye of the storm._

_“I can’t have any more children, Theta,” Kit whimpered. “I don’t think I could survive it if something happened like this again.” Her fingers were trailing restlessly over her baby bump, sobs wracking her body. “He’s still inside me, and he’s dead because I wasn’t able to tell my body to not let me live so that he could, and I- I can’t- Theta...”_

_The flight to Gallifrey was silent as a crypt. Braxiatel had been there to welcome them, concern lighting his features when he saw his sister-in-law and the state of his brother. They were standing before a Council member who had shown up to hear their report on the planet._

_“You realize, of course, that natural births are not permitted on Gallifrey,” the woman said coldly, eyeing them with disdain. “The fetus will have to be terminated.”_

_“He’s dead already,” the Doctor retorted numbly, hand finding Kit’s as she struggled to contain her sobs. For just a brief moment, the impassive visage cracked with sympathy. She nodded, gesturing wordlessly for them to follow her._

_They’d been given his ashes in a tiny jar, and not having to say a word to one another they walked out of the city and into the fields of red grass. The jar was small, oh so small, and it didn’t take much moving of dirt to bury it deep in the ground where it could rest forever without disturbance under the tree where they had promised each other forever._

~§§~

“No More,” the Doctor murmured, fingers trembling as they rested on the freshly-disturbed earth. Kit let out a trembling sigh and buried her face against his neck. _No more children._


	12. Nine

“God, she’s hot,” Adam whistled as Kit sauntered out of the control room. The Doctor’s head snapped up to glare at him. He’d never been particularly intimidating in any of his past bodies save for his Sixth, something he had offset with a colorful coat that no one could take seriously, but he was fully utilizing his gruff Northern accent and ‘dock worker’ look this time around with the denims, heavy combat boots, and leather jacket. 

“She’s married,” he retorted pointedly. Adam blinked, then snickered. 

“What, to you?” He leaned back in the jumpseat like the cat that had caught the canary. “Well she didn’t mention it.” 

“Probably because she didn’t think you were worth the effort,” the Doctor needled back with a sneer and false jovial smile. “Now get lost. I have repairs to do.” 

“Might do,” Adam countered, unwilling to let things go. He stood and sauntered toward the rest of the ship. “Maybe Rose is lonely tonight.”

“If she is, _Kit_ would tell me. Now scram.” 

“Why do you call her ‘Kit?’ Huh? Her name’s Rose. Rose Tyler. Bit of a chav, sounds like, but a pretty thing and definitely too young for you.”

“Her name is ‘Arkytior,’ and the both of us have known each other since we were eight years old. We’ve been married since we were two hundred. We’re both over a thousand now. Our species is very long-lived.” Satisfied by Adam’s deer in the headlights expression, the Doctor ducked under the console. He and Kit had been working around the clock to get everything back in tip-top shape after the damage sustained by the end of the Time War, and in between showing a shop girl named Shareen the universe little repairs here and there were steadily chipping away at the long list. Shareen was, at the moment, visiting her mate Keisha. They hadn’t meant to bring Adam along, but Kit felt guilty for nearly getting him killed and taking him on one trip was the least they could do before dropping him back home. 

He was only halfway through with his repairs when the TARDIS shrieked at him and he was running for their bedroom, cursing himself as he went. He’d _known_ something was off with Kit and he’d trusted her to tell him when she was ready, but apparently they were no longer sharing things anymore. 

That realization hurt more than the fear that was coursing through his body. When had they gotten to that point? More specifically, why hadn’t he noticed? 

For the last stretch of the war they’d been separated, he on the front lines and she helping Brax and Romana because they needed a voice of reason in committee. That had been a span of twenty-three years, give or take, but still... they’d talked after that time. Hadn’t they?

...Oh. They hadn’t. Well. There you go then. 

When he arrived at their room the Doctor was frozen in the doorway as he watched the calamity unfold. Kit was on the floor in the fetal position with ripples of golden energy exploding from her body. To a non-Time Lord they would say it was a regeneration, but he knew better. This was... something else entirely. 

He ran over and scooped her up into his arms, hissing as her body heat burned him through his jumper, and ran for the en-suite. The TARDIS chirped worriedly and he could have cried with relief when he saw that she had drawn an ice cold bath. The shock to Kit’s system from the drastic change in temperature was a risk he would have to take, considering that if he didn’t drop her in the energy might burn her alive from the inside out. 

Steam erupted from the water as soon as she hit it, and as she came back up with a gasp he recoiled at the swirling gold in her usually-soft whiskey brown eyes. Her pastel gold hair was white with shining light, and it was something he had never seen before.

When her temperature had gone back down the Doctor scooped her back into his arms, slowly moving to set her on the wooden bench in the bathroom. He then stripped her pink hoodie and white tank top from her body, working her bra and shoes off, and then peeled her jeans and knickers off. When this was done he gently toweled her dry and dressed her in a simple slip not wanting to go to the extra aggravation of putting a sleep shirt and pants on her and then, wrapping her in a fluffy robe, deposited her on the bed. 

Kit remained unconscious for about five hours, and when she awoke it was to him sitting in a chair on her side of the bed with his head in his hands.

“Theta?” She called softly, reaching out but pausing before touching him. He was tense, all hard lines and weary pain, and the Bond seemed to be strangling them rather than connecting them. Gasping softly she clutched her robe tighter about her. “You- you didn’t-“

“Go I go your mind while you were sleeping and see what you’ve been hiding from me?” He asked softly, brokenly. “Do you know how much it hurts that you even thought that was a possibility? I just want us to _talk_ to each other, Kit. That’s all I want. And if you never tell me... if you can’t tell me... I won’t be happy about it, but I’ll live with it. If you can’t- if you won’t- please.” 

“What do you want to know?” She sighed, flopping back into the pillows and dragging her hand across her face. 

“Honestly? Anything you’d be willing to share with me.”

“You don’t half ask much, do you?” She muttered sarcastically. 

“Time was, I didn’t have to ask.” Kit sat up abruptly, dark anger making her eyes flash golden, and the indication that he took note of that was only the slightest intake of breath. 

“Well, in case you haven’t noticed, things have changed,” she snapped as she turned to glare at him. All the fire went out of her as she watched him crumple like rice paper in a stiff breeze.

“Of course I noticed, Kit,” he rasped. Hot tears were gathering in the corners of his eyes as his entire frame shuddered. “There’s no one but us left. The only other person... other Gallifreyan... I can feel in my head is you, and you’ve shut me out. Our family, our children, grandchildren, _great-grandchildren_... they’re gone. All we’ve got is each other now. Please. Please, don’t shut me out. Not now. I don’t- I don’t know if I can survive that.” 

There was a long period of silence before she spoke, so softly he thought he’d imagined it.

“It was my fault.”

“Hmm?”

“It’s my fault,” Kit repeated, her voice neutral and expression blank. She was numb. “They’re dead because of me.”

“If you really think that then you couldn’t be more wrong,” he countered. Her laugh was sharp and pitched, shattering like broken glass, and cold dread twisted in his stomach.

“Oh, Theta. I really wish that were true,” she whispered, eyes haunted. “But every time you lie awake at night wondering why you lived when they died, cursing your existence that you should be left when they all fell, it was because I was a coward and couldn’t stand the thought of being completely alone.” 

“...What?”

“What do you remember of the last day?” She asked. He winced.

“I was badly hurt,” he began, slowly drawing the words out as he sought clarity of the details. “I’d been at the Battle of Arcadia, trying to protect as my innocents as I could. I was shot... I think... but I do remember everything burning. Everything... On fire. And then I woke up with a new face inside the TARDIS.” His expression grew frightened. “Kit, what happened?” 

“During the last moments of the war, Rassilon grew desperate to find anything to give Gallifrey the edge,” she explained, shifting uncomfortably on the bed. “And anyone with the right genetic markers for the potential to become Mages, like the Pythia of old, he took special interest in. And I... had those genetic markers. But there were about... eleven of us? And he took us all to this special laboratory under the guise of using our different backgrounds and skill sets to be a think tank to win the war. When we got there, he had some former members of the CIA who had been dishonorably discharged down there.” 

Kit shuddered, drawing her knees against her chest. The Doctor squirmed in his chair but said nothing, waiting with uncharacteristic patience for her to finish her story.

“I can still remember the screams... they imprisoned us, and experimented on us. I survived only because I was youngest. I know that doesn’t usually matter for our species but this time, it did... They cut me open, tore me apart, stitched me back together again... I have no idea what they were looking for, but they awakened something in me. Something... unstable. And when I get emotional I lose control.”

“Is- is that what happened to the Dalek this afternoon?” The Doctor whispered. She gave a sharp nod, eyes filling with tears as she looked at him. 

“It’s worse than that, Theta. The- I can’t get it to work, if I- if I’m calm.”

“How- how is- how is Gallifrey your fault?” 

“I couldn’t control it, Theta. It’s raw vortex energy, coursing through my body. It destroyed the planet, wiped out the ships in orbit... no one survived.” 

“What could possibly have made you so emotional that-“ the Doctor cut himself off as realization dawned. “Did I... Did I... die?” 

“The Bond _tore_ , Theta,” Kit sobbed, curling in on herself and clutching at her head. “It hurt so much... you were supposed to _be_ there, and you _weren’t!_ You weren’t there!” She gasped in a breath. “I incinerated the Daleks on the spot, and Rassilon was so pleased with himself. He had the Chancellery Guards bring your body to my cell, but when they got there... I could tell, you- it wasn’t Daleks that shot you. It was one of our own men. Because Rassilon wanted results.” 

Though he had decided to remain neutral during this talk, the Doctor was on the bed in the span of a few seconds all but crushing his mate against his chest. Kit’s fingers bunched in the fabric of his jumper as she pressed herself as close to him as possible. The words tumbled from her in nearly-incoherent babble as she sobbed uncontrollably and he clutched her impossibly tighter. 

“I... I just... all I could think of in that moment, with my head splitting and your... your body laying at my feet, was how Gallifrey had only ever taken from us. I couldn’t remember the good, just the bad. And I missed you so much... Rassilon and his guards, probably the entire High Council and the War Council too, they just disintegrated. The Bond kept looking for you, and couldn’t find you. And I couldn’t control the energy, and brought you back and then triggered a regeneration to heal you. The stress of it all just-

“It split my body apart atom by atom, and when I regenerated it tore the planet to shreds by the fallout. The TARDIS materialized around us just as the world ended.” 

“We need to talk to each other more, Kit,” the Doctor murmured, voice muffled from where his mouth was pressed to her temple as he actively stoked their bond to reassure her it was there. “I can’t help you unless you speak to me. And if there’s anything you think I’ve been hiding from you, I’m sorry. I didn’t do it intentionally.” There was a long pause before he spoke again.

“I know things are never going to be the same. Definitely not like they used to be. But that doesn’t mean we can’t work at healing. Okay?” 

“...Yeah.”

For a while, they got better at doing just that. Talking extensively into the night about what was bothering them, working through their issues just as dedicatedly as they worked through their repair list for the TARDIS. Bringing Jack on board was the best thing they’d ever done, really. He was flirty and fun but understood having a past that still bled, and with their help he was able to figure out what had happened during those two years he’d missed and recover a piece of who he was. He became an invaluable friend to both of them, even if the Doctor liked to pretend he annoyed him more than anything. 

That was why Kit lost control of her power again when he died on the Gamestation. She burned with it, exploding with golden energy like a goddess of time itself, and it sickened the Doctor to see the Daleks turned to dust because he could now only too easily imagine what the death of his planet looked like. 

The effort to keep the power contained, to prevent it from destroying the Earth, proved to be too much. Kit was unable to bring Jack back from the dead properly, and it was burning her from the inside out. 

The Doctor begged the universe for some kind of sign, some way to help his mate, and in answer the TARDIS opened her Heart to them. Pure, raw, unconfined Vortex energy that would have no trouble absorbing Kit’s excess. 

He paid the price of a regeneration for getting it out of her, sealing the deal with a kiss. But she would live, and the Earth would be safe.

Some things were worth dying for. 


	13. Ten

“Settling in well?” The Doctor asked casually. Kit glanced over at her mate and rolled her eyes.

“There was no way I was going to let you take a hit from that Dalek,” she sighed. “I’m fine. Better than fine, really. My last body, it looked like I was nineteen. No one took me seriously.”

“I liked that body,” he said quietly. “And I miss all of them.”

“You gave your last life for me, it was only fair I gave mine for you with Davros trying to destroy all of reality. Now, where did Donna and Wilf get off to?” The Doctor opened his mouth and then closed it again, frowning, as he ran his fingers through his hair and looked around them. 

They’d actually met this version of Kit in the Library a few months ago, though she’d had more fun hiding that fact than outright saying it, and the Doctor couldn’t help but wonder if he was wearing a different face too. It would only make sense, after all, but then again where had he been if that was the case? 

“Doctor, Rose!” Donna called happily, running up to them with Wilf panting and an unfamiliar man looking bewildered in tow. “Future you found Lee! That’s what he was doing at the Library while this one jerked us around!” 

“I did not ‘jerk us around,’” Kit scoffed, a glimmer in her blue-green eyes betraying her amusement. She fluffed her bushy blonde hair and started sauntered toward the TARDIS. “Come on, Sweetie. Now that we know what he looks like, we might as well go get it over with.”

“Wait, future you was this you!?” Donna asked, confused. 

“Yeah, just a day or so older,” the Doctor explained with an indulgent smile. The pair were doing their traditional dance around the console as they fought with their ship to cross their own timeline. “Donna, why don’t you give Wilf and Lee a tour while we do this hmm? The Library isn’t safe, and it’s not wise for humans to cross their own timestreams.” 

“Huh? Oh. Yeah, yeah. Okay. Be careful.” 

“Were the first time, will be this time!”

“I remember things going very differently,” Donna muttered. Kit laughed as the Doctor shot Donna an affronted look. 

~§§~

“...I think I just effectively kidnapped someone doing this,” the Doctor muttered as he watched Lee get dragged by Donna into his younger self’s TARDIS. 

“He’s not complaining,” Kit replied with a shrug, nodding her head in the direction of the sound of laughter emanating from deeper within their own ship. “He sounds happy.”

“We’re going to lose Donna soon, aren’t we?” The Doctor said flatly. 

“Yeah. But we’ll have Lee with us for a bit, I think. If he wants, before Donna chooses to settle back on Earth. Besides, Jack likes a holiday every once in a while. And we always have each other.” 

“Mm... that we do,” he murmured, nuzzling her hair with his nose before resting his temple against hers. 

As it turned out, Lee was more than happy to tag along for a few months. During that time they found they were able to do group couple activities, group dates, and when both pairs wanted some alone time it was easy to get that too. Around the time the Doctor registered a wormhole signal and climbed on a bus, Lee and a Donna were looking for houses. By the end of it, he’d accepted a job with U.N.I.T. due to a recommendation from Dr. Malcolm Taylor. While he was setting up his 21st century identity he was living on the base, and Donna continued to travel. 

They were dropping her home to get ready for the wedding when the Master showed up again, turning every human on the planet into himself and effectively trying to resurrect a Gallifrey that should never have lived past the Time War. The Doctor gave his life to save Wilf; they held off his regeneration long enough to get through Donna’s wedding, and by the time they made it back to the TARDIS he couldn’t hold it in any longer. 

“Let go,” Kit whispered as she cradled his head in her lap. He’d collapsed on the grating and was having difficulty getting back up. “I’ll still be here when you wake up. I love you.”

“You are the light of my life, Arkytior. And if it’s my last chance to say it with this face, I love you,” the Doctor rasped before surrendering to the inevitable. Kit whispered soothing words as she ran her fingers comfortingly through his changing hair.


	14. Eleven

**_ Brian’s Observatory Journal of the Year of the Cubes - Day 001 _ **

I’m not sure how Rory stays sane with these people. Sure, they’re wonderful babysitters for little Melody when he and Amy need a night out, but I dunno. 

Rose looks and acts older than he does, her big curly blonde hair and flirty attitude reminding me of an insane Ms. Frizzle (nobody judge, Melody loves _Magic Schoolbus_ not me). And he’s just so... it’s been two hours since the pair decided to go linear, and the only reason Amy and Rory’s house hasn’t been entirely repainted is because she took him out on a date and got him out of their hair for a while...

**_ Brian’s Observatory Journal of the Year of the Cubes - Day 029_**

Still no progress with the cubes. The TARDIS is permanently parked in Rory’s guest room. At Rose’s suggestion they’ve both begun working for U.N.I.T. while they wait for something to happen and have taken the time off to visit friends all over the world. It’s been relatively peaceful.

Melody learned to swim last week. We’re all so proud of our girl. 

**_ Brian’s Observatory Journal of the Year of the Cubes - Day 066_**

Amy and Rory had a fight last night. Rory wanted to stay and raise Melody on Earth, and Amy wanted to take her to see the stars. The Doctor got in the middle of it, which made Rose mad, and now there are four people who aren’t speaking to each other. Despite two of them being well over a thousand years old they’re all acting like they’re in primary school. 

Am I the only mature adult in this situation?

If so that doesn’t bode well.

**_ Brian’s Observatory Journal of the Year of the Cubes - Day 113_**

Amy had some friends over last night, friends from work and from before traveling in the TARDIS. They made a derogatory comment about the Doctor and Rose not having yet had kids yet.

...

Rose had a miscarriage? They talk so much, but never actually say anything... They look so sad sometimes even when they smile...

**_ Brian’s Observatory Journal of the Year of the Cubes - Day 141_**

Cube activity: null. 

So anyways, Amy accidentally got married to Henry VIII on her and Rory’s anniversary. That’s _exactly_ the type of thing you want to hear in a phone call from your son early in the morning. 

Oh, and Big Melody showed up last night looking for money. She loves Little Melody, but I’m with the Doctor on this one. If someone poisons you after forcing you to go back in time to kill Hitler you shouldn’t be around children. 

(Side note: I asked how he survived the poison and he said Rose gave him one of her lives? Is that a thing? That they can do? Why is this my life?) 

**_ Brian’s Observatory Journal of the Year of the Cubes - Day 202_**

I got a rare moment of quiet introspection with the Doctor today. He was working on his TARDIS, and I found him in the console room and we chatted for a good long while. It turns out that they had children before Rose’s miscarriage, and that they died in the war that destroyed their entire species. I never knew they were the last of their kind. 

I suppose, in a twisted way, it does make sense. It’s like I always knew, always saw the signs, but only now do I understand them. 

My heart bleeds for them. They’ve both lost so much, is there any more they have to give?

**_ Brian’s Observatory Journal of the Year of the Cubes - Day 267_**

It’s Christmastime, and this means (so I’ve been told) that the Doctor is allowed to hang mistletoe from _every single door opening_ and bedeck every surface in tinsel. 

...

Someone please save me.

**_ Brian’s Observatory Journal of the Year of the Cubes - Day 300_**

I officially dub Rose and the Doctor Mr. and Mrs. Flirty McFlirterson. 

Apparently it’s their wedding anniversary. 

I have no words.

**_ Brian’s Observatory Journal of the Year of the Cubes - Day 337_**

Cube activity remains non-existent... just as it did for the majority of the year. Is it bad that I’m happy they’re here? I’m finally able to talk to my son and daughter-in-law and I don’t have to ask from _when_ they came. I can just ask from _whence_. Melody is growing in leaps and bounds, and now that they’re grounded they put her into a public school. Homeschool is nice, but why not let her interact with other children her age? It’s good for her.

I think Amy has come around to the idea of remaining here as well when this is all over. She’s stopped telling the Doctor to bookmark the next location she wants him to take them to and is instead writing her shopping lists for the market. 

Traveling is fun. It’s about self-discovery. But when you know who you are, it’s time to come home. 

Rose seems to have brought the Doctor around to the idea too. In essence, they’ll only ever be a call away for a weekend holiday somewhere, but their real lives, the ones they live on a day to day basis, will remain firmly in the present. 

It’s wonderful. 

**_ Brian’s Observatory Journal of the Year of the Cubes - Day 364_**

The cubes are active. 

One of them is singing the _chicken dance_ song. 

Why. 

Well, the Doctor’s happ- got to go, he just had a heart attack and Rose looks like she wants to murder him for it.


	15. Twelve

“It’s time, Theta,” Kit said softly. The Doctor looked up sharply at that, inhaling, as he hauled himself to his feet. They’d just lost Bill to the Master and the Cybermen, and it was taking everything they had to keep going. 

They’d both been badly injured in the battle, both tried their hardest to keep fighting. The fact of the matter was, they had no more regenerations left and Gallifrey - the proper one linearly - was gone. 

“I’m not ready,” he said stubbornly. Kit winced as he swayed on his feet. 

“Don’t think we have a choice,” she whispered. He sighed, then nodded in concession. 

The walk back to the TARDIS was quiet, the Bond buzzing between them as they drew comfort from one another but said nothing. Nothing needed to be said. Slowly, the pair of them began making arrangements. Knowing the TARDIS would want to die when they were gone, they went and picked up Jack Harkness. The immortal and the ship had always been good friends, and they had been patient enough to teach him to pilot of the centuries. He would watch over their Old Girl well until her last day, and she would care for him as an exasperated mother would care for an errant child. 

Kit used her powers to transport them both to the night they had left, and together they threw Kit’s once-family off track. She shoved a bottle of anti-nausea medication into her younger self’s hands and the Doctor the ornately carved box into his younger self’s hands. They had removed their rings and bonding pendants earlier that morning, taking a quick stop to slap a note onto the door of what would become their TARDIS and depositing their keys on her console, leaving the door unlocked. She hummed mournfully for them, knowing this would be the last time they would see her. 

Once they’d gotten away from Kit’s family - or rather once they’d caught up and realized they had the wrong people (ironically they were incorrect on both counts) - the couple flashed forward in time to a few hours before the world and the war was supposed to end. Time Lock or no Time Lock, Kit had spent centuries honing a power she hadn’t wanted and nothing was standing in their way. 

Together they walked to the tree where they had buried the ashes of their family one by one over the course of the conflict; first their unborn son, who they had posthumously named Alistair after their oldest friend. Then their grandson Alex, and his young daughter Sophie and his wife. David had died years ago, his and Susan’s adopted children buried with him on an Earth so ravaged by the Daleks it was no longer recognizable. They laid Susan’s ashes with her son’s and sister Jenny’s, who had died on the planet Messaline fighting splinter cells during the War and had never married. Everyone they had loved and lost was here. 

They laid underneath the tree they had kissed and we’d beneath, holding each other close and sinking deeply into the Bond as the horizon lit up with the golden energy of grief and surrendered to the infinite sleep. They had lived and loved together on their terms and their terms alone, and at the end when death waited for them they accepted it again on their terms alone. 

Together. 

The Doctor and the Wolf, in the TARDIS, as it should be. 

Theta Sigma and Arkytior, under the silver Cadonwood tree among the scarlet plains and beneath an orange sky, as it had always been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this is OFFICIALLY the last story in this 'Vignettes' series. For those of you who had been following it since the beginning, I initially said that was supposed to be 'Let it Rain.' However, in cleaning out my files, I found two WIPs from 2015 that had not been published to Ao3. The first is 'Arose a Phoenix,' the second this: 'Arkytior.' 
> 
> I want to focus all my Doctor Who content on my Fifth DoctorxRose Tyler series 'Something of the Wolf,' dividing that with my Assassin's Creed Desmond Lives story 'Vox Populi.' While I loved writing a bunch of small oneshots, I definitely want to focus on my big projects now. As of 02/27/2020, 'Arose a Phoenix' has not yet been completed. When it is there will be no more updates at all for this series. It's been fun, guys. If you love my Doctor Who content I suggest giving the aforementioned 'Something of the Wolf' a look-see.
> 
> The song for this oneshot is 'Something Just Like This' by The Chainsmokers ft. Coldplay; covered by One Voice Children's Choir. It can be found here:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vn5TIxI8LiE&list=PLtySlXIiOy6HjnXG2F4TDKuGN36TIMHKv&index=13&t=0s
> 
> This series had a playlist of songs that helped me get in the mood for the tone for each book that I had compiled on YouTube. The entire playlist can be found here:  
> https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLtySlXIiOy6HjnXG2F4TDKuGN36TIMHKv

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: ALL RIGHTS GO TO THE BBC, DOCTOR WHO, AND ANY OTHER KNOWN AFFILIATES. THIS IS A NOT FOR PROFIT FANWORK.


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